


If I Needed You...

by Underneath



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Burn, descriptions of violence and death, healing power of music, singer songwriter au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15412563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underneath/pseuds/Underneath
Summary: Frank needed something- anything- to drown out the demons in his head. He found a pretty blonde with a pretty voice.An alternate universe where Karen is a singer songwriter playing weekly gigs at the neighborhood bar, and Frank comes in to listen and ease his pain. They resonate.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for taking the time to read:)

“Will that be all, your majesty?” Jessica asked in her typical drawl, handing Karen two drinks. One tap water. One whiskey neat.

“I’ll be expecting a masseuse and a bottle of Cristal chilling in the green room.” Karen shot back.

“Too bad this dump doesn’t have a green room. You’re outta luck, sweetheart.”

“Well then, it looks like I’m all set,” Karen raised both drink filled hands in a double cheers to Jessica’s back as she sauntered away. She took a quick sip of water and deposited her drinks on the small riser she was getting situated on.

Karen hummed to herself, warming up her voice and allowing her mind and body to ease into that comfy, relaxed place she thrived in when she had a gig like this. Two hours of playing guitar, singing a few original songs but mostly covers. She had no set list, no plan, only reading the room and playing whatever bubbled up to the surface of her mind. To Karen, nights like this were therapy and she hoped her fellow New Yorkers who found their way to this dark little bar with their dark little secrets felt the same way.

“I’m so glad we started doing this,” Malcolm said as he adjusted Karen’s microphone stand and made sure the sound system was good to go.

Karen smiled up at him from where she was bent low over her guitar, tuning. It had actually been Malcolm’s idea to get Karen to play here. The bar was always slow on Wednesday nights and he hoped adding some live music would create ambiance and draw people in. Jessica was a pretty easy sell when he’d pitched the idea. It probably helped that she and Karen were best friends. So, Malcolm hung a some lights, set up a few speakers, nailed a wonderfully tacky red velvet curtain to the wall in the far corner, and instituted ‘ _Wednesday’s Nights with Karen Page’_ every Wednesday from 9-11pm.

“Me too,” Karen said, straightening up and running a hand through her long blonde hair, tossing it all to one side. “I’m ready as soon as you kill the house music.”

 Malcolm hurried back behind the bar and gave her a big thumbs-up as soon as he hit the control that muted the house music. The bar fell awkwardly silent.

“All right, Karen. If your singing drives all my customers away- you’re fired!” Jessica all but shouted, as she did every week the moment before Karen started singing. A few chuckles sounded around the room and Karen shook her head smiling.

“Thanks, Jess. Hello everyone, I’m Karen Page.”

From there, Karen just let it flow. She started upbeat with a few tunes everyone would know and had moved into a number of slow and sweet love songs when she felt her skin prickle. The dark shape in the corner booth was a man, and he was staring at her. It wasn’t strange to have people watching her- she was on stage singing after all- but his attention was intense. She could feel it.

  _Oh. Hello._

She hadn’t noticed him, though he must have been sitting there since before she arrived. She couldn’t see his face with his hoodie pulled so far down over his eyes. He sat sideways in his booth, back to the wall, one foot up on the seat, a beer on the table that looked as if he hadn’t yet taken his first sip.

Jess’s bar was a dive. There were lots of people there who seemed value their solitude as they drank. This loner in the dim light blended right into the background and hadn’t really caught Karen’s attention. Until now.

He leaned in and froze, like an animal catching a scent in the breeze. His movement pulled his hood slightly back so Karen could see his eyes, riveted on her, tracking the movement of her hands on her guitar, scanning her face. Often, this kind of attention from a random guy in an audience could creep Karen out. She’d avoid eye contact and make sure to keep a wary lookout for him when she headed to her car once the show was over. But this guy felt different. He wasn’t leering at her or trying to get her attention… he was listening. The music moved him. This was resonation. This was connection. Karen felt a tug in her stomach.

Quiet applause rippled through the room as she sang the last few melancholy notes of the song and seemed to snap the guy out of his trance. He looked down immediately and though he didn’t clap, he picked up his beer and tipped it in her direction before taking a long drink.

He didn’t clap for her the entire night but he was incredibly responsive in his own way. He would nod at the end of every song, his head bobbing up and down as if saying ‘yes and amen’ to the music. When she sang something particularly beautiful he would shake his head slowly in appreciation. He didn’t watch her any more though. It seemed that once he’d caught himself staring he could now barely even look at her, preferring to listen with his eyes closed.

Karen was distracted, totally aware of his presence in the room. She was singing for the whole bar, but felt like it was a private show between her and this stranger. She found herself trying to figure out what he would like, what songs would make him react, connect… what she could do to get him to look at her again. Once she ran out of her go-to list of songs most people would recognize, she started pulling from her bag of tricks. Obscure indie rock? That didn’t feel right. Jazz standards weren’t him either. 90s anthems got him nodding a long a bit- but it wasn’t enough. Her two hour set melted away and Karen was already down to her last song. She really wanted to get it right.

  _Hmmm… maybe be was an old fashioned kind of guy?_

She let her fingers start meandering over the guitar strings, summoning up the familiar melody of Townes Van Zandt’s ‘If I Needed You’ and… there… she got him. Once again, that animal instinct. He leaned in and froze, eyes locked on Karen.

_“If I needed you, would you come to me?_

_Would you come to me and ease my pain?_

_If you needed me, I would come to you_

_I’d swim the seas to ease your pain…”_

She sang those simple lovely lyrics not really knowing what she hoped to get out of this, but wanting a connection with him. _Why? No idea._ Karen was about to start the third verse when he wiped his eyes breaking his stare. Leaning his head back against the wall, he spent the rest of the song with his eyes closed. His face was tilted up Karen could finally really see him. He was handsome. Masculine. His face was all angles and a pouty mouth. His nose looked like it had been broken a few times and… did he have a black eye? Instant attraction was followed by instant guilt. He looked exhausted, slumped there in that booth. He looked like the saddest man in the world. Having been so aware of his all night... how had she not noticed this endless echoing loneliness hanging on him? Absorbing the sight of him, Karen was gutted. _Shit- are those tears?_ _Why had she been trying to get a reaction, to play with his emotions? She had no idea what his story is, what he’s going through…_ She choked up. _Thank God this song is easy to sing._ Karen croaked out the last few bars of the song feeling raw and ready for the show to be over.

“Thank you all so much for listening. I’m Karen Page and I hope to see you again next week!” Karen signaled Jess to turn the house music back on as she spun around to take off her guitar and knock back the last of her whiskey, hoping the alcohol would burn away the lump in her throat. On nights like this she was supposed to give music as a gift- to bring joy to people. It wasn’t supposed to be about feeding her ego... getting handsome strangers to stare at her… she felt like an asshole.

 Shaking her head, Karen looked up surprised to find the man in the hoodie suddenly right in front of her, dropping a $10 bill into her tip jar.

 “Oh, hey- thank you!” her voice came like a squeak.  

 Hoodie Guy had already started to retreat, but he turned and let his eyes flicker over her.

 “Thank you, ma’am.” His voice was hoarse, like it was the first time he’d talked all day.

Karen waited a moment because he seemed like he would say something else. She could see the words building up in his chest trying to fight their way out, but they got trapped before they could reach his lips. He snapped his eyes away from her to the floor, nodded once, twice, then turned away before Karen could think of any thing to say.

Frank needed some air. He needed some space. He could feel his vision starting to tunnel and the ringing that was always in his ears was growing louder by the second. He wove his way between the tables and he focused on the glowing red exit sign as if it was going to save him somehow and burst through the bar doors out into the relative calm of Hell’s Kitchen at night. He gulped down his breaths, drinking in the darkness.

_What was wrong with him?_

Tonight had been fine. Listening to that girl’s sweet voice… It was relief. Audible comfort.

Every day was a struggle. Every night was a war. Most days he could deal, but tonight for some reason he could feel himself buzzing, coming out of his skin. After work he just couldn’t get himself to go to his apartment. He couldn’t bear the screaming silence waiting for him there. So instead he’d walked right passed his building and into the bar around the corner. He just wanted a damn beer, and some distraction from his thoughts that were getting more desperate by the minute. He wasn’t looking for excitement. He didn’t want conversation. He just wanted… no, _needed_ distraction.

And then she started to sing.

Frank was always a sucker for a girl playing guitar, but her singing… _God damn._ It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was just what he needed and he could sit in it and soak it up and forget that his life had completely gone to shit. He felt good.

But then, of course, it had to end. The pretty girl with the pretty voice had to play that song. One of Maria’s favorites. _Fuck._ This was why he’d just wanted some distraction. He shouldn’t have been so greedy to allow himself to feel good. It didn’t _feel good_ to feel good. Feeling good led to this; gut-wrenching reminders of what feeling _good_ used to be. Feeling good led to fighting off panic attacks on the sidewalk in the middle of the night because he couldn’t handle one single remembrance of how good he’d had it.

_Get it together, asshole._

“Hey, I hoped you’d still be here.”

Frank whipped around fast, his blood was up. The pretty blonde singer was smiling at him and walking his way with her guitar case on her back and a sway in her step. She looked so friendly and genuinely happy to see him that if he hadn’t been 100% sure he was the only person on the sidewalk he would have looked around to see if she was talking to someone else. But no- that smile was for him. He felt electricity zip up his spine, but blamed it on the near panic attack he’d just been wrestling with. 

Karen kept approaching until she was right in front of him. Frank fought the urge to take a step back. _What? Was he afraid of this skinny woman in her skinny jeans or something?_ Karen’s smile waivered the tiniest bit as her eyes scanned his face. Frank knew he looked like hell and it was awkward watching her take stock of him. He currently had pretty bad shiner, as well as some stitches in his eyebrow that he hoped weren’t to obviously stitched by himself. He was glad he was wearing long sleeves and his hands were in his pockets otherwise she’d see more bandages and how gnarly his knuckles were at the moment. The longer she assessed him the more uncomfortable he got until he finally shifted his weight from one foot to the other and cleared his throat.

“Ma’am?”

“Oh yeah- sorry!” She laughed lightly, cheeks pinking up, a little embarrassed at letting herself get caught staring. 

“I… I just wanted to thank you again for the tip. And for listening. I could really tell that you were listening and that… “ She closed her eyes- searching for the right words. “It means a lot. To be singing and giving out and knowing that someone is really connecting to you… it means a lot.”

Frank had no idea what to say. He just stared at her and then off to the side.

“So…,” she said, her voice getting weaker, her confidence evaporating. Karen ran her hand through her hair, piling it over one shoulder- a nervous habit. “Yea, just… thanks.”

Frank felt helpless, watching this woman shrink in the shadow of his silence. _Had he forgotten how to talk to a pretty lady? He had been married to one for fuck’s sake. Say something._

“It was beautiful.” Frank said looking at the concrete, then straight into her eyes. “Beautiful. Thank you, ma’am.”

That put the smile back on her face and the pink back in her cheeks.

“All this, ma’am-ing, “ she said with a tilt of her head. “Are you in the military?”

Frank let out a puff of air that could have been a laugh. “What gave me away?”

Karen again gave Frank a once over, taking in his combat boots, his stance, his clean shave and buzz cut visible beneath his hood, and just the sheer size of him.

“Pretty much everything.”

And this time, when Frank’s discomfort at her staring made him shift and look away bashfully, Karen just laughed in a teasing way that made him crack a half smile.

“Well, you can call me Karen. Ma’am, is a little too formal for me,” she said, full of warmth offering her hand for a shake.

Without thinking Frank offered his hand as well and didn’t realize his mistake until he saw Karen’s eyes widen a bit at his swollen and cut up knuckles.

_Shit._

Frank almost pulled his hand back, but Karen grasped it lightly.

“Nice to meet you…?” 

“…Frank.” He said, feeling like he just got some sort of get out of jail free card.

“Frank.” She said, smiling again. She made his name sound nice. They released hands slowly. Again, he had no idea what to say.

“Well Frank, hopefully I’ll see you around sometime. I sing here every Wednesday,” She said, adjusting her guitar case on her back.

“…Yeah. Maybe,” was the best he could come up with. He was about to nod and make his escape when he noticed how dark and quiet the it was on the street… His gut twisted.

“Hey uh… Karen,” Frank’s voice was gravel. She raised her eyebrows in curiosity. “Do you have a safe way to get home?”

“Yea- this is my car right here.” She pat her hand on the hood of the car parked right in front of the bar. “Thanks for asking.”

Her voice was soft. Empathetic. Like she already knew everything about him. He couldn’t look at her.

“Ok… take care.” Frank exhaled and turned, heading back to the place where he lived but never called home.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hello everyone! I’m Karen Page.”

 “Yeah!! Whoo Hooo KAREN!”

  _Oh God._

Karen rolled her eyes but couldn’t contain her goofy grin. The extra loud cheering was coming from the bar where a bunch of her friends had gathered to drink, hear her sing, and apparently howl like a pack of wolves and shout her name to fill every available moment of silence. It was such a rare treat to have them all together that she didn’t even mind the teasing. Plus, she knew from experience that they’d tire out in about 15 minutes and start behaving like sane adults.

She started out right away with a song she knew they all loved.

In the middle of the pack were Foggy and Matt, the two lawyers at the small law firm where Karen worked as secretary/paralegal/voice of wisdom and reason when they drove each other crazy. They’d become like brothers to her and she couldn’t help but lose a few lyrics and laugh when they both raised their beers and sang a long with her- somehow already drunk. Laughing along were Claire and Luke- the old married couple of the group. Karen met them the first day she moved to New York. They lived in the same building, were a bit older and wiser, and had saved Karen’s ass more times than she could ever repay. Next were Trish and Jess, they met at the gym of all places. They were three girls, new to the city, wanting to take self-defense classes. It had been a hilarious disaster from the start. Trish was actually way too advanced for the beginner’s class and spent so much time correcting the instructor that she got thrown out. Jessica wouldn’t listen to directions and was so freakishly strong that she kept hurting people and got thrown out. Karen… well, she just left the class because she wasn’t into it… but it was more fun to say they that they all got thrown out together. That day at the gym, and the many drinks they shared afterwards, cemented their friendship for life. Malcolm found his way into this family when Jess hired him at the bar a few months ago. He was newest to the group but adored by everyone. Karen was pretty sure that he and Jessica were crazy about each other and something great could get started between them if only Jess would stop being so… Jess.

As Karen hit the last chorus with all of her friends bellowing along with either their beer bottles in the air or their arms around each other. Her heart swelled up. She didn’t have a family of her own. Not anymore. Those weirdos at the bar were all of the people she loved most in the world.

_Not bad, Page. Not bad at all._

Karen was so filled up by seeing all of her friends that she really tried not to be too disappointed at who _wasn’t_ there that night. She really did. But she couldn’t help the slight pang of loss she felt when her set was about to start and she looked over to the corner booth and saw it empty _. He’s a complete stranger. Maybe he’s busy tonight. Maybe he was a tourist and doesn’t even live here. Why am I obsessing over this guy?_

But she knew why. She’d felt a connection to him, and for Karen that was rare and powerful. And yes, she was attracted to him, appallingly so. And yes, she’d face-palmed about 100 times over the last week remembering how she had ogled him while he was standing right there watching her. And yes, the few words he did speak were in a voice so low and rough that it caused strange little flips in her belly… but it wasn’t just about that. They had connected. They _had_. She couldn’t get it out of her mind. When he looked at her, the sadness in his eyes was stirring. The honest humanity she’d felt in him was profound. She hated to admit it, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Frank. _Why was he so haunted? What had happened to him? And what on earth was up with all of those injuries?_ That black eye looked awful up close, and his hands… he looked like he’d been boxing a brick wall. Karen loved digging for answers and getting to the bottom of things. It was going to be torture to never know Frank’s story, but she’d probably never see him again. Except… except there he was. Hood up, hands in his pockets, making his way to that corner booth.

Frank tried not to groan as he sat down. He was pretty sure he had some bruised ribs, and while he had survived worse, it still hurt like hell. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing for a minute, managing the pain. To anyone else it probably looked like he was praying. But no- it had been a long time since Frank had called on a higher power and he didn’t bother anymore. Not to ask for help. Not to ask permission.

He ordered a beer with a slight wave toward the grumpy bartender and took a quick scan of the room. The clump of people at the bar were louder than the whole rest of the room combined as they cheered and wolf whistled at the blonde singer on stage.

Pretty Karen with the pretty voice and the biggest blue eyes he’d ever seen. Pretty Karen who’d given him the brightest smile he’d received in years. He tried not to think of her over the last week but it was a lost cause. Listening to her sing was the best he’d felt in a long time. And maybe she’d sing another song that would remind him of Maria and he’d end up feeling like shit… but something was always going to come along and remind him and twist his guts inside out, so why not enjoy a beer and some good music in the mean time?

The surly dark haired bartender, whose name is… _Jessica, maybe_ , brought him his beer and collected the $3 that he laid on the table. Unlike most people who got close enough to sneak a good look at his battered face, Jessica didn’t flinch or look concerned. She rolled her eyes as if to say, _‘Oh, please’_ , and left him to his drink. Frank liked this bar more and more.

Tipping back his drink, Frank took a long swig and finally let his sights land on Karen with her tousled blonde hair and ripped up skinny jeans. Her eyes were closed and her brow furrowed as she sang. She was so earnest, so raw. Her hands totally at home on the strings of her guitar, her face expressive. Karen opened her eyes, their gazes locked in an instant. Frank felt a little self-conscious being caught staring at her again, but he couldn’t look away. Karen held his gaze and even seemed to give him a secret smile as she sang. Frank was transfixed.

Once song was over, the group at the bar burst into loud cheers yet again which made Karen giggle softly into the microphone. The sound was lovely and low.

From then on Frank tried not to look at Karen. He closed his eyes and let the music distract him and take him away. It worked just like last time, just like he hoped it would. He had no idea how much time had passed.

“Karen! Play ‘ _Changes_ ’!” One of the guys at the bar yelled, breaking Frank from his almost trance-like state and prompting him to glare over at the group of friends who joined in the request.

“Yeah, Karen! Play ‘ _Changes_ ’!”

“Pleeeeaaasseeee!!”

Frank honed in on the brown haired pretty boy in the suit who’d instigated the begging. He had a huge grin on his face and was wearing sunglasses in this dimly lit bar… _blind maybe_? Frank looked quickly between The Suit and Karen and briefly wondered if he was her boyfriend. Karen was smiling at him with affection and Frank was surprised at the small twinge of disappointment he felt, but instantly brushed it off. It didn’t matter either way. This woman was basically a complete stranger and Frank was not looking for romance. _Hell no_. But Pretty Karen with the pretty voice was sweet, and he hoped the blind suit was good enough for her.

“Okay, Okay- here we go…” Karen shushed the crowd as she started the song.

_“I feel unhappy, I feel so sad._

_I have lost the best friend that I ever had._

_She was my woman, I love her so._

_But its too late now, I let her go._

_I’m going through changes,_

_I’m going through changes,_

_I’m going through changes,_

_And it hurts so bad…”_

Karen sang and Frank was surprised to find that he recognized it. He had known it by Black Sabbath- but hearing it sung in this soulful haunting way pierced him through. _God damn_. Frank couldn’t stop his staring this time as she sang about the man who couldn’t hold his relationship together because he was too weak and the world was too evil. With every line Pretty Karen shredded his heart and yet somehow soothed his wounds at the same time. _This girl is something else._

When the song ended and her friends burst into cheers, Frank sat still in his booth, trying to linger in the afterglow of the spell Karen cast. He watched covertly as her friends swarmed her with hugs and said their goodbyes. He noted that blind guy in the suit did not kiss Karen goodbye and was annoyed that it gave him a little boost.

By the time Frank finished his beer, Karen’s friends were gone and she was packing up her guitar. Frank wanted to leave. Last time he’d talked to her he’d felt like a tongue–tied school kid. But the gift she’d given him- a few peaceful hours of beauty and music rather than the silent vacuum of this apartment or the chaos of his thoughts- had to be recognized. It was only right. 

Frank approached her with another $10 for her tip jar, hoping to make a quick drop and a clean exit, but before he could toss it in she turned around and hit him with another one of her full throttle smiles. It felt like pure sunlight blasting him from where he was hiding in the shadows.

“Frank, hi!” She sounded slightly breathless. It made Frank’s stomach clench. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again.”

What could he say? That he’d been counting the days until he could hear her sing again? That he’d come and listen every single night if it meant that her voice would drown out the demons in his head? That his life was such shit that he strangely considered her a friend even though they’ve only spoken a few words to each other?

“It was beautiful… again,” Frank said, so low she wouldn’t have heard it if she hadn’t stood up to her full height in that moment. In those boots she was nearly as tall as him.

Karen smiled even brighter at his compliment, but then frowned and waived him away as he tried to drop his money into her tip jar. 

“Oh no, no, no,” she grinned. “We’re old friends now- and I don’t accept tips from friends.”

Now he was really stumped. She was so disarming. How did she make him feel so wound up yet so comfortable at the same time?

“Ma’am…”

Karen tipped her head and wrinkled her nose in a playfully scolding way. Frank wanted to laugh. She was cute.

“I mean, Karen.” He corrected. “I gotta give you something for singing your heart out like that for so long.”

“Well, I guess you could buy us some drinks.” She said with a wide smile.

Frank froze. _Was she serious?_ He waited for… what? For her to change her mind? But she just looked at him with an open, hopeful face.

“Okay.” He said with a nod and headed toward the bar feeling disoriented. This girl made him feel like a fucking kid. He turned to look over his shoulder, wondering, maybe hoping, that she had disappeared and he wouldn’t have to feel this way anymore. But she had made her way to the corner booth, slid in, and gave him a little smile and wave.

_Get it together, asshole. It’s just a pretty girl._

He shook his head slightly and focused on the bartender as he ordered two more beers. Jessica looked over his shoulder, saw Karen in his booth waiting, and immediately glowered at Frank.

“Two beers, huh? You give Karen any trouble and that face of yours is gonna look a hell of a lot worse than it does right now.” Jessica said, placing both hands on the bar and leaning right up into Frank’s face. Frank tensed, pulse rising, instantly ready for a fight even though the woman seemed so small. Frank’s instincts were good. When he sensed danger he was ready to throw down and somehow… this little bartender was dangerous.

“Jess, stop.” Malcolm rolled his eyes at Frank in a ‘ _she’s always like this’_ sort of way and handed Frank his beers. “Here you go, man.”

Frank’s blood evened out as he headed back towards Karen. He hadn’t bought drinks for a woman in a bar in years. He hadn’t been threatened by bartender, let alone a woman bartender in… ever? But luckily for Frank, a little adrenaline pumping in his veins was always a good thing. It cleared his mind, helped him see straight. And- _thank god_ \- it sent the tongue-tied school boy inside him packing. He was a grown ass man. He’d been to war. He’d ripped people apart with his bare hands. He could handle little threats from little bar tenders and conversations with pretty girls.

Karen smiled at Frank as he handed her a beer and slid into the booth opposite her. She took a drink and studied him for a moment. He wondered what she must think of his busted up face and what on earth she would want to talk to him about.

Karen herself didn’t have a plan. She was kind of in awe of her self getting as far as she had. She had no idea where her instant confidence had come from. She _never_ asked guys to buy her drinks. Maybe she was coasting on the energy from performing and allowing her instincts to remain in charge the way they had been for the last few hours. Whatever it was, she was glad for the confidence boost and hoped it lasted a bit longer. Frank here was a little intimidating.

Karen wanted so badly to ask him about his face- there were definitely some new injuries there- but she didn’t know to broach the subject. So, she took another tack.

“Do you play music?” she asked.

Frank huffed a little laugh, seeming surprised at her question. 

“I mess around on the guitar a little bit,” he said through his side smile. “But its nothing even close to what you do. If I was on stage people would pay me to stop.”

Karen laughed.

“I doubt that. You have such a great low gravelly voice.” Karen said it without thinking and instantly wanted to scoop the words back into her mouth. _Wow! Way to play it cool, Karen. Excellent work._

Frank’s smile grew a bit as he shook his head and looked away. He was shy. It made Karen less embarrassed. This big tough guy was pretty adorable.

“Well, even if you don’t play shows and stuff, I could tell you’re a musician.” Karen said leaning towards him a bit over the table that was between them, conspiratorial.

“Oh, yeah?” Frank said, leaning in a bit as well, playing along.

“Yep.” She said, clinking her beer bottle against his as if the matter was settled. “I can tell by the way you listen. It’s like you soak in every lyric, feel every melodic phrase. I love singing for you.”

Frank looked right into her eyes with that intense stare of his. Karen felt it down to her toes. _Stop being so obvious, idiot!_

“I mean…” Karen back-pedaled. “I love singing for people who really pay attention, you know? So its not just background noise to them.”

He nodded, but said nothing. Karen internally face-palmed.

“I’ve learned to really appreciate people who are actually listening ever since Jess let me start playing here a few months ago.”

Frank looked over to the bar where the menacing female bartender was still glaring at him.

“Jess, the bartender. Friend of yours, huh?” Frank asked, with a straight face but a bit of laughter in his eyes.

“Yeah… why?” Karen asked confused and turned to look at Jess, surprised to find her apparently in a stare contest with Frank.

“She threatened to rearrange my face for buying you a beer.” Frank said, again with a side smile.

Karen face-palmed for real this time. “God, Jess! Malcolm! Make her stop!" 

Malcolm walked over and kissed Jess on the cheek, which was enough of a distraction to get her to stop glaring at Frank and start glaring at him. Mission accomplished.

Karen turned back around, cringing apologetically. 

“Sorry, she’s protective.” Karen said as Frank smiled and sliced his hand through the air in a _‘no harm done’_ sort of way as he took a drink. This gave her a chance to study him again. Last time she’d seen him he’d had a pretty bad black eye. This time, the bruises around his eye seemed on the mend, but he had new bruises and a cut along his cheek. His hands still looked torn up. 

“So, she said she’d re-arrange your face?” Karen asked in a soft voice. Hoping she wasn’t being too invasive, but dying of curiosity. _What the hell had happened to him?_

She watched the mirth drain from his face slowly as he became even more unreadable than normal. 

“Are you a boxer or something?” Karen asked gently, suddenly afraid he would spook.

Frank shook his head.

“What happened to you, Frank?” Karen said, willing him with her eyes to understand that he could talk to her, that she cared about him even though she didn’t know why.

He started to do that thing he does. Where she can see his words building up in his chest. She can see them trying to make their way through his throat and past his lips before he can swallow them back down.

“I was…” He started so softly she could barely hear. “There were two guys mugging a girl. Just a teenage girl wearing her backpack, coming home from school and the store. Two grown men, against her- a kid. One of the guys, he hit her so hard she fell and her head bounced on the ground.” The disgust in Frank’s voice was visceral. “I saw it happen and I got in there. They didn’t get away with it. The girl was ok. She got home safe. But those two shitbags, they didn’t get away with it.”

Karen was horrified, her hands covering her mouth.

“Oh my god, Frank!” Karen whispered. Frank looked up at her, almost like he’d forgotten she was there. “They had a knife…” She said, staring at the cut along his cheekbone.

He nodded.

Karen searched his face again, not wanting to press but still needing more answers. She couldn’t leave well enough alone. “That explains the cut on your cheek… but not the black eye you had last week…”

Frank hung his head, silent for a long moment. Karen almost thought he was going to get up and walk away, but he finally looked up with raw intensity in his eyes.

“If I see something bad happening, I have to jump in, Karen. I have to,” he said, so fierce she could only nod, wide eyed. “I got the shiner when I saw a guy getting car jacked,” Frank said, fists clenching, getting agitated just talking about it. “It was right on my block, not far from here. This city is full of scumbags who hurt innocent people. If I catch ‘em, they don’t get away with it.”

Frank’s voice was steady, but he looked at Karen like he was afraid. Like if she was about to tell him he’s wrong or try to stop him, it would push him over some edge.

Karen was at a loss. All at once she felt admiration for him for being so willing to help others, and a little afraid of him for his clear ability to beat the hell out of people, and concern for his safety, and yes… attraction because it seemed a pretty heroic even though she was conflicted about the violence of it all. 

“Jesus, Frank,” she said, once again letting her eyes roam his face, making him feel so exposed. “You just stumble across these situations and dive in head first?”

Frank said nothing. His face gave away nothing.

“Are you sure you’re ok? Do you… need anything?” Karen reached her hand across the table and very gently took his hand from where it was gripping his beer bottle. Her touch was so soft, not wanting to hurt him at all. 

“I’m ok.” Frank looked wary, but allowed her to take his hand and run her fingers lightly along the cuts and scrapes and swollen knuckles. They were silent for a long moment while she touched him. Karen could barely think of what to say, but she knew one thing for sure…

“Those people… they were lucky you were there,” she said, so quiet, like it was a secret.

Something changed in Frank then. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Karen saw it again; he was the loneliest man in the world. It broke her heart. When he opened his eyes they were bloodshot, the saddest eyes in the world.

“Yeah,” his voice choked and ragged. “They were lucky I was there.”

It sounded cynical, and Karen couldn’t figure out why. 

Something awful had happened to this man. She knew now wasn’t the time to ask any more questions even though she had about 1000. So, she held his hand a little longer, and when he seemed to become self-conscious she let him go and asked him if he wanted to head out. 

They walked out together in an oddly intimate silence. She carried her guitar. He carried her amp. Once they got her gear packed into her old wood-wacked station wagon, Frank, for the first time, was the one to break the silence.

“This car is in the worst shape I’ve ever seen. How do you drive this thing in the city?” 

Karen’s jaw dropped. “Hey! Careful now- this car is my baby!”

She laughed as she fake hit him and he fake defended himself. Frank got that half smile back on his face. 

“This car is older than me. It can’t be safe. She’s all rusted out. The front headlight is busted and the rear bumper is about to fall right off her ass and that’s just what I can see on the outside,” he said, actually laughing at the deeply offended look on Karen’s face. She moved between Frank and the car as if to block it from his judgment and put her hands on her hips.

“I’ll have you know that this car has aged to perfection and she’ll be with me ‘til the wheels fall off.” Karen said, right up in his face, playfully defiant.

“I’m thinking that’ll be any minute now,” he said, right back at her, straight faced but eyes laughing. And suddenly they were very close. And they both realized it. Karen tried to hide her small shiver.

“Well just, ” Frank said, and he backed away looking bashful again, swinging his arms a bit like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. “…stay safe in that thing.”

“Oh I will,” Karen said, haughty, trying to regain that playful atmosphere from a few moments ago and ignoring the intensity in the air as much as she could. “Speaking of safety… You stay safe too. I’d like to see what your face looks like not covered in bruises.”

Frank let out the little huff that Karen was quickly learning to recognize as laughter. She couldn’t help it. She launched herself at him in a hug so quick he didn’t have time to avoid her if he had wanted to. He froze for a moment with her arms around his neck. Feeling her. Ignoring the pain from the bruised ribs she had no idea about, before he let his own arms circle her waist. 

“Its really scary,” Karen whispered. “What you’re doing… getting into fights, running towards danger like that.”

He was shocked. _When was the last time someone hugged him? Why did it make him want to weep?_

They were swaying.

Karen recoiled from him almost as quickly as she had attacked. She looked embarrassed, cheeks pink but eyes sincere. “Please be safe, Frank.”

Frank’s chest swelled with affection as he looked at her. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him like that. Had worried for him like that. Had whispered in his ear, lips brushing his skin like that.

“You’re all heart, huh?” Frank said, trying to diffuse the tension with a side smile.

It worked. She laughed.

“So I’ve been told." 

They stood a few feet away from each other, not really knowing where to go from here.

“Maybe I’ll see you again?” Karen asked with a hopeful head tilt.

Frank smirked and nodded, walking backwards. Before he turned fully he said over his shoulder, “Only if you start taking my requests.”

“Oh yeah?” Karen called, a little louder as he got further away, “What would my biggest fan like to hear?”

“The Boss,” he called as he turned the corner out of sight.

Karen just smiled. _Of course_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested- check out Charles Bradley's version of 'Changes' by Black Sabbath... it slays:)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Hello!!  
> This story is surprising me with where its heading. I'm getting in to more detail about Frank and Karen's backgrounds and into their thought lives than I had imagined I would. Its leading me to want to write some challenging... and possibly steamy future chapters:) SO, just to be safe- I've changed the rating on this story from M to E. Comments and reviews are so appreciated as I'm trying to find out what's connecting and what isn't. I hope you enjoy the read!

Frank was in the desert. He was alone in the barren landscape. Alone for a thousand miles. Suddenly, he could hear two distinct sounds: gunshots in the distance, and his phone ringing in his pocket. Ignoring the gunfire, Frank pulled out his phone to see Maria’s name on the screen… she was calling, she needed him. He hit the green ‘answer’ button, but nothing happened. He hit it again and again, harder and harder, but the phone just kept ringing. The gunshots got louder. He cursed at the phone, hitting the screen so hard with his fingers that the glass was shattering, cutting him. The gunshots got louder. He was bleeding, shouting Maria’s name, but she couldn’t hear him. The call didn’t connect. The gunshots got louder.

Frank burst awake, gasping for air like a drowning man.

 _Shit. SHIT._ Waking life was miserable enough, but these goddamn dreams…

Frank had wanted to sleep, all day if he could. No construction work. But now, that plan was shot to hell. He was wide-awake, heart pounding, wishing he had a wall to smash in with his hammer, or his bare hands… or his head.

His real phone started to vibrate, jarring him. Frank scowled at it, resisting the urge to throw it out the window. He already knew it would be Curtis calling him. Only two people called him- ever- and David’s lazy ass would still be asleep at this time on a Saturday morning. 

“Hey,” Frank answered, his early morning voice even lower and rougher than usual.

“Well good morning to you, too,” Curtis said, way too chipper for this time of day, and for Frank’s mood in general. “I’m just calling to check on my boy, see how he’s doing, see if he’s ready to come work with me and David like I know he wants to.”

Frank sighed and rubbed a hand over his face before sitting up, wincing. He hissed as silently as he could, looking down to see some red seeping through the bandages wound around his torso. _Great._

“Curt, we’re gonna do this again? I appreciate the offer… you know I do-“

“Come on, Castle! Why not? What’s your reason?” Curt cut him off. “You punishing yourself? Working a job you hate, to pay off some debt you don’t owe to any body? Swinging a sledgehammer, turning your mind off, instead of putting your brains and your skills to good use?” 

“… Maybe I like the sledgehammer.” Frank said, wry humor in his voice. Getting scolded by Curtis was a familiar feeling; it didn’t sting as much as it made him nostalgic. 

“I bet you do, dumbass.” 

That made Frank actually laugh.

“Seriously, brother. David and I are building something here. Anvil is going to be the top of the top private security company in New York. More than that, its going to be a pathway for vets coming home, needing jobs where they can use their skills, and the community of other vets while they settle back into civilian life. We’re going to do some good work here, Frank. We could really use you.” Curtis made his pitch, as compelling as ever.

Frank hated saying no to Curt- he’d take a bullet for the guy any day- no question. But this job…

“I know you’re gonna to do good work. Believe that. I know. Its just…” Frank sighed, bracing himself for the turn of conversation. “I don’t think I’m ready, you know? Most days… I can barely keep my head on straight. I don’t have my shit together.”

“I hear you, man. I do. But how else are you going to get your shit together?” Curtis insisted, an argument Frank had heard several times now. “You need community. You need to be part of a team.” 

Frank said nothing, so Curtis kept on rolling. “Ok. If you don’t want to work with me and David- _your best friends_ \- what other plans do you have? More running around at night, getting in fights, like you have a death wish?”

“Come on, man…” Frank groaned, this too, had been discussed many times before. 

“No- _you_ come on. You have a life to live, Frank. I don’t want to see you throw it away.” Frank could hear the emotion rising in Curt’s voice.

“Hey, hey- I’ll think about it, ok? Lets talk about it soon- me, you, and David. We can go… grab a beer.”

“Yes! I’ll get ahold of David and hit you up with when and where. It’ll be good to see you, man.“

“Ok, ok. But Curt…” Frank said, suddenly deadly serious, “aren’t you worried?”

“Worried about what?” Curtis asked, instantly concerned. 

“If I take the job, get all dressed up to babysit rich assholes… aren’t you worried that I’ll look better than you in my fancy suit?” Frank dead-panned.

Both men bust out laughing. 

“In your dreams, Castle.”

 

Frank hung up with Curtis and padded over to the bathroom. He changed the bandages from the knife wound on his side, relieved to find that though it had bled a little in the night, the cut was actually healing up pretty well. The shithead who gave it to him had been aiming at his face. Frank blocked the blow, but the motion had led to the guy making a slice along Frank’s ribs. The cut was long but not deep. No real problem.

Frank studied himself in the mirror. For the first time in a long time he looked pretty normal. He was in good shape- knife wounds aside. He had no bruises or cuts on his face. Shaving was a lot easier, at the very least.

 _I’d like to see what your face looks like not covered in bruises._

Karen said that. Pretty Karen with the pretty voice, who hugged him, and told him to be safe…

 

Frank’s mind kept drifting to Karen as he got dressed and left his apartment in search of the strongest cup of coffee he could find. He had seen her several times now. Each time he was flooded with relief that she always had the same effect on him. Escape. She took him away from the shit of his life, and even though it was brief, it was beautiful, and he savored it. Hell, he was addicted. Frank found himself counting down the days between Wednesdays. The few times he’d missed were because he was too much of a wreck and he didn’t want her to see him, didn’t want her to worry.

_‘Please be safe, Frank.’_

_Goddamn._ Remembering that moment made his chest ache every time. Her big blue eyes pleading with him, long blonde hair all tousled from the way she constantly raked it from one side of her head to the other- a nervous tick maybe. The last time a woman had stopped him in his tracks like that… 

Frank closed his eyes and waited for the ringing in his ears to start screaming like a teakettle, and his heart to start pounding like a war drum, they way they so often did whenever he thought about Maria. His wife. His loss. But, he must have woken up on the saner side of the bed this morning because the panic didn’t come. A wave of grief rolled over him, dragged him under for a few moments, but then floated along, letting him move on with his morning.

 _Weird._ Frank was surprised, and not for the first time, that thinking of Karen didn’t send him in some sort of guilty, tortured spiral. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t attracted to Karen; he wasn’t enough of a bullshit artist to even try. She was gorgeous and sweet with mile long legs, big blue eyes, and the voice of a damn angel. He didn’t think Maria would hold it against him that Karen was the first thing that had made him feel good in the almost 2 years. _Hell, Maria probably would have had a crush on Karen, too._ He huffed a short laugh remembering how Maria would always drool over her favorite singers, and how she’d told him once that she wished she could have Beyonce’s babies. Besides, attraction or not, it didn’t mean shit. It wasn’t like anything was going to happen between them. Yeah, he was drawn to Karen, but it wasn’t as simple as lust - it was more ...fascination. She pulled him out of his shit, made him feel normal- _good_ , even. He couldn’t explain it. Didn’t want to.

 

Frank found the coffee shop he’d been looking for. The little bells on the door jangled as he stepped in and he decided he’d done enough thinking this morning. Thinking too much usually lead to him buzzing out of his skin… and right now he was too damn tired. He needed his coffee, his book, and a break from thoughts of his dead wife and the pretty blonde singer.

Easier said than done though, as Frank looked up and saw an elegant twist of very familiar blonde hair in front of him in line.

He almost hadn’t recognized her. He’d never seen her in the daylight, never known the way the sun would make her hair shine and her skin glow. She looked different. She was all put together, wearing in heels, a pencil skirt, and a blouse of some light blue material that was so thin he could almost see her skin beneath. If he’d thought she was attractive in her ripped up skinny jeans and boots… Frank gulped.

Karen was texting rapidly and hadn’t noticed him yet. She turned slightly and he caught a better glimpse of her face. Her make up was different. Her lips were stained a deep red. _Hell._ He’d just agreed with himself that his thing with Karen wasn’t about lust, right? Well, even if it had been true before, it was a damn lie now. She looked like she'd gotten a make over specifically designed to drive him crazy. _Enough. Its just a pretty girl._

Frank couldn’t keep standing right behind her and not saying anything. She’d eventually notice him and then it would be weird. As usual with Karen, he felt a little like a tongue-tied kid.

“Say lady, you got any change?” Frank said it so low, no one but Karen could hear.

Karen looked up from her phone and was already reaching into her purse for some change when she realized it was Frank. She beamed up at him and fake hit him in the arm as he fake defended himself. It had become a thing that they do.

“Frank! Hi!” Karen said, looking so happy to see him that he felt a light somewhere inside him flicker on and glow. “So, this is what you do during the day, huh? Beg for change in coffee shops?”

“Only on Saturdays. On weekdays I work the subways. I’ve got a breakdancing routine that really kills with the tourists,” Frank said, stoic, but Karen’s giggle made him crack a smile. He liked making her laugh.

“I’d definitely pay to see that.” A strand of hair had come loose from her twist and floated down over her eyes. Karen tucked it behind her ear. Franks eyes followed the movement.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without a black eye,” she teased, and then a bit softer, “Its good to see you. You look different in the day light.”

Frank’s eyes ran all over her face, from the strand of hair that had come loose again, to her big, blue eyes, to her red, red lips, and quickly away. “So do you.”

Karen blushed a little and looked down at herself, spreading her hands. “Yes, Frank. You are seeing behind the curtain. This is what _the_ _Karen Page_ looks like at her day job.”

Frank puffed his short laugh.

“I don’t normally work on Saturdays, but we had a special case this morning,” Karen said quickly. “I’m the secretary, well more of a paralegal really, at a small law firm here in Hell’s Kitchen. Nelson & Murdock- a few blocks away.”

Frank had only ever pictured her as he’d seen her- a musician on stage- profoundly talented. On top of that, she was a professional, working at a law firm… Frank was impressed.

“So, your special case this morning… did it go ok?” he asked, and watched her red smile grow to an almost comical size, her eyes lit up. 

“Yes! It was such a good win!” Karen was so excited. Her gestures were big, she was waving her phone all around. “Our client is the sweetest lady and her landlord is a bastard. The conditions of her building were terrible- unlivable really- but he's a bully, and he threatened everyone, took advantage of the fact that a lot of the people in the building aren’t extremely fluent in English… “ Karen cut herself off, shutting her eyes tight and shaking her head. “Like I said, total bastard. It was really hard to figure out a way around this guy- but we did it! Matt found a few bylaws, Foggy found a few legal precedents, and I found a few old police reports that the landlord hadn’t expected us to dig up.”

Frank could see the gears in Karen’s mind turning, and the fire in her eyes, as she spoke. She was passionate about this. It was how she looked when she sang.

“It was a solid win. Not just for our client, but for every family in the building.” Karen continued with a satisfied sigh, “It’s been a good morning.” 

“Sounds like a battle well won, good work.” Frank nodded deeply, happy for her. “Hope you got a little pay bump, working on a Saturday and all.”

Karen’s cringed. “Well... we haven’t quiet gotten to the place where a lot of our clients can pay us in cash…”

When Frank squinted his eyes, confused, Karen’s cheeks pinked a bit as she reached into her purse and pulled out a large object wrapped in tin foil. She peeled back the foil a bit to reveal… a loaf of banana bread.

“So… this was my paycheck today.”

Franks stared at her.

“Its really good…” Karen shrunk a bit. “Some of our clients can pay. But the ones who can’t still really need our help. We can’t just turn them away…” 

She was talking to herself more than she was talking to him. Frank could have laughed. _This girl really is all heart._ He sliced his hand through the air in a no-excuses-needed gesture.

“I get it,” Frank said, tilting his head a bit to look her straight in the eye. “You don’t need to explain it to me. I get it.”

Karen stopped herself in mid-flow and just looked at him in that way she had that made him feel so exposed. “Yeah. You do understand, don’t you? Thanks,” She said softly, looking straight into his eyes, into his pain.

Frank’s heart thudded. _What the hell did she see when she looked at him like that?_  

“Let me buy you a coffee, huh?” Frank said, needing to diffuse the intensity that had a tendency to build up unexpectedly between them. “A victory coffee.”

She lit up like a sparkler. 

“Yeah? Ok- thanks! Oooo- we can have some of my delicious paycheck with our victory coffee!” she said, with the same energy as if she’d just offered him a _brand new car_ on The Price Is Right.

Karen did a quick scan of the room and chose a table near the windows. She headed towards it and said over her shoulder, “Just black coffee with cream.”

 

As Frank waited for their coffee at the bar, Karen really tried to wipe the ridiculous smile off of her face. She was sure it didn’t work. She could feel herself grinning like a maniac. She chanced, what she _hoped_ was a casual glance, in Frank’s direction and allowed herself to enjoy the view for a few moments. He stood like a soldier. He wore a black baseball cap, so his face was still in shadow and he could hide a bit when he wanted to, but it was the most open she’d ever seen him. He wasn’t wearing the hoodie or a bulky jacket like he normally would, so she could really _look_ at him. He wore a dark Henley, jeans, and those combat boots he seemed to live in. The Henley was stretched across his broad back and narrowed at his hips. _He must work out constantly._ Karen caught herself and forced her eyes away from the man, unwrapping the banana bread. _For the love of god, play it cool._

She’d thought about Frank a lot over the last several weeks. Too much probably. Since that time he’d bought her a beer, he’d become a regular at Jess’s bar on Wednesday nights. He would listen to her sing with that intensity, would stare at her with that sadness, would have some new injury that she’d try to ignore until she broke and asked him about it, and then he would tell an obviously abridged story about how he’d gotten injured in some act of bravery/lunacy. Karen still didn’t really know what to think about all that. It shook her to see him all beaten up. The few times he hadn’t shown up on a Wednesday night… she’d been worried sick. Karen was convinced Frank didn’t just the “happen” to be nearby when crimes were going down… he must be seeking them out. _But why? He wants to be some sort of vigilante or something?_ That seemed to be the popular theory these days. People- special, gifted people- were taking it upon themselves to fight crime in the city. The rumors were everywhere, even in the papers.

Karen was contemplating Frank so hard, and stuffing chunks of the decadently delicious banana bread into her mouth, that she didn’t notice Frank arrive at the little table with their coffee.

“Oh my gah,” she said, startled and laughing a bit at herself for having big chipmunk cheeks full of banana bread. She quickly covered her mouth with her fingers and said as clearly as she could manage, “You haaa to try this. Sooooo good.”

Frank was smirking at her as he accepted a thick slice of the bread. Karen watched him, a little giddy, waiting for his reaction. He stared her down took a big man-sized bite, as he slowly chewed she watched his eyes grow as big as she’d ever seen them. Then he snapped them shut, nodded deeply, in that yes-and-amen way of his, and swallowed.

“That is some good shit,” he said, low and impressed and immediately taking another bite. 

Karen nodded her agreement still chewing. He’d brought them both coffee, hers with cream, his black. She took a sip and sighed in bliss.

“This is perfect. Thanks.” 

“No, thank _you_. I haven’t had anything like this in… a long time,” Frank said, studying the last chunk of his slice like it was a rare artifact he’d previously believed was only a myth.

Without asking if he wanted more, Karen broke off two more big slices, one for her and one for him, grinning.

“No homemade, granny’s recipe, baked goods at base camp, hmm?”

Frank shook his head with that side smile.

“No, ma’am. It was all cans of beans and freeze dried who-gives-a shit,” he joked, and she laughed. “But I’ve been out of the dessert and for a couple of years now… still haven’t had anything like this.”

Karen had so many questions, she barely knew where to start. This was going so well, she didn’t want to bring him down or scare him off…

“What branch?”

“I’m a Marine. Force Recon.” He said, looking unsure if she’d know what he was talking about. 

“Special Forces,” Karen said, her tone equal parts admiration and curiosity. “You must have a lot of tricks up your sleeves.”

Frank nodded in the simple, honest way of the truly talented. Karen traced the rim of her coffee mug with a finger, adding up this new info. Frank’s eyes followed the rotation. Karen wanted to figure him out. She could see he was a wounded soul, but any time he mentioned his military service he seemed fine, he almost brightened up. Whatever had gone wrong for him, whatever it was that hung on him like a shroud… it didn't happen at war.

“It seems like,” she began, tentatively. Tilting her head, and searching his face, “Being a Marine was a good fit for you. You liked it.”

He paused for a moment, maybe a little surprised at her assessment.

“Yeah, it was...”

Karen watched all of his words pile up in his chest and hoped he would let them out.

“I loved that shit.” He said, finally, his voice low and rough, but alive. “I loved serving my country, fighting along side my brothers. Neck deep in insanity most of the time, but fighting for things that truly mattered… I loved that shit. And, I was good at it.”

Frank looked at Karen, whose face was openly fascinated- she was clearly ready to ask him a thousand questions. He huffed his little laugh and held his hands up. “Pretty much all of my missions were classified… so I can’t really talk about them…”

Karen face palmed, then peeked out at him through her fingers. “I’m sorry. Am I that obvious?”

Frank just stared at her, eyes laughing.

“I can’t help it- you’re so mysterious. Every time I see you I have to try to stop myself from asking a million questions.”

That made him actually laugh.

“So,” she said, grinning and taking advantage of his light mood, “If I can’t ask about your service- how about what happened next? What brought you home?”

The change in him was instant and devastating. The light left his eyes. Any loose relaxation he’d had before was replaced with coiling tension. Karen was mortified. _Why do you do this? Why can’t you just leave him alone? Now look at him, you jerk!_

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “I shouldn’t have asked…”

But he didn’t seem to hear her. The longer he sat in silence, the more labored his breathing became

“I came home for my wife.” his voice sounded ok, but his eyes were glazing over, he looked like a cornered animal. "She's dead." 

Karen could see him fighting it off- she recognized the symptoms, all too well. _He’s… I think he’s having a panic attack… shit._

 _"_ Hey, I’m so sorry. We don’t have to talk about this,” she said, as soothingly as she could, and stood up. She hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder, rubbed with her thumb. “Lets get out of here. Lets take a walk.”

It didn’t seem like he was listening, but he nodded quickly, got up, and sped to the door. Karen caught up with him outside and they just walked in silence, heading anywhere. Long blocks and long minutes passed as she mentally berated herself. _God, did she have to upset him every single time she saw him? He must hate her… maybe she should leave_. But something in her gut told her to stay, not to leave him until his heart slowed down and his breathing evened out. Something told her not let either of them be alone, maybe even to dive into the grief together…

“Look Frank, I’m so sorry. I’m _so sorry_ about your wife, and I’m so sorry for prying and bringing it up.” She turned her head and looked up at him walking beside her. She could tell he was listening even though made no indication he was. “I don’t know exactly what happened, and you don’t need to tell me… but as much as any person could- I understand. I know the grief, and the panic, and pretty much exactly what you’re feeling right now.”

Frank turned to look at her with those haunted eyes. She nodded back, shrugged, and took a shuddering breath.

“Four years ago, I lost my whole family. My mom and dad. My little brother.” Her throat constricted for a moment. “Car accident. Drunk driver.”

Frank made pained noise deep in his throat and stopped walking, so did she. He hung his head. There were no words. From the moment they’d met, Frank and Karen had felt a connection, their souls called out to each other.

“Frank…,” it was all Karen could say. Blinking back tears, she reached out to him, lightly putting a hand on his arm, to comfort him, to comfort her, to communicate without words. They stood very close. Frank hesitated, swaying slightly, then lowered his forehead to hers. They rested there. A breath of stillness. Their shared grief as wonderful as it was terrible. A silent moment of profound understanding.

When the wave passed, they separated slowly and kept walking. Time passed, no idea how much. Eventually, Karen led them to a park bench where they sat, and watched the city, and felt each other’s warmth.

Frank broke the silence.

“I took leave two years ago, to come home, see Maria, make some plans. She was always so busy- always learning new things. I’d be gone for a few months and when I’d come home, she’d have taken classes, become an expert at something new. I’d come home and the house would be so different, _she_ would be so different.” Frank shook his head. “Been like that since she was 17. Always surprising me, always running circles around me.”

Karen listened, pierced.

“So, this time I come home and she just has this glow, she has a secret and she’s gonna spring it on me, and she’s gonna take her damn time doing it,” he smiled as he remembered. “She had the whole day planned, a picnic in the park, the one with the carousel. She even made me get on the ride. So, I’m standing there, looking up at her on her painted pony, watching her go up and down, and she finally leans over and whispers to me – we’re pregnant. We’re gonna have a baby.”

Karen watched as Frank was transported. He was staring straight ahead as if he could see the whole scene in front of him as clear as day. His throat started to close up.

“I heard something wrong… I heard it but I didn’t do anything. It was gunshots. And then there was just red, coming out of her everywhere. And then there was nothing.”

Karen gasped.  _NO. No no no._

“I got shot in the head. I woke up a few weeks later. Maria was gone. The baby… gone. Only thing left was a bullet they had to leave in my brain.”

“Oh my god, Frank.”

“Turns out we were caught in the crossfire of a drug deal gone bad. Some low life scumbags, dealing in filth, not caring who got hurt along the way.”

Frank was shaking, tense as a trip wire, ready to blow. Karen could feel the rage emanating from him. She could feel how dangerous he was, but she wasn’t afraid of him. She understood now. She understood why he went out at night, and did what he did. Why he ran in like a soldier whenever he saw an innocent person being hurt, no matter how dangerous it was. Why he tore bad guys apart. He wasn’t just the saddest man in the world. He was the angriest.

Karen’s heart was on the floor. She wanted to comfort him. She only knew one way…

Karen started singing softly, it was always weird to sing without her guitar, but in this moment it didn’t matter. She sang a song she loved, a song about love and loss, and the hope that the ones we lost knew just how much we cared.

Frank was bemused at first, but then closed his eyes and listened. Deeply listened, the way he always did when she sang.

 

_“The pages of my calendar kept turning away_

_I have some better words now, but its too late to say them to you_

_My dream of all dreams and my hope of all hopes_

_Is only to tell you and make sure you know_

_How much I love you and how much I always did_

_And yes I know you loved me I could see it in your eyes_

_And it was in your struggle and it was in your mind_

_And it was in the smile you gave me when I was a kid_

_Feels like no one understands_

_And now my only chance_

_To talk to you is through my prayers_

_I only wanted to tell ya I care…”_

 

Karen’s voice was lovely as she sang. She hoped it was the right song, she hoped it helped.

When the song was over it took a while for Frank to open up his eyes. When he did, they weren’t glazed over any more, they were clear and present and sad and soft.

“Thanks, Karen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested... the song Karen sings is "Through My Prayers" by the Avett Brothers.


	4. Chapter 4

Karen was blissed out in pastry heaven yet again: snickerdoodles this time, piles and piles of them. Who could worry about something as mundane and tedious as paying the rent, when they had this mountain of buttery, cinnamon-sugary goodness to distract them?

There had been a steady stream of clients in at Nelson & Murdock today. As usual, some were familiar faces, but most were new. Some were able to pay with actual money, others improvised with, say, several dozen cookies, an antique mirror, and a bit of handyman work around the office. Karen was enjoying her fully functioning window and the fact that her desk chair no longer wobbled. _Thank you very much, Mr. Fitzpatrick._

Karen popped the last bite of her fourth snickerdoodle into her mouth, sucking the extra sugar off her thumb, when a familiar face popped into the office. 

“Hey, hey!” Claire grinned, entering and flopping herself down into the chair that faced Karen’s desk.

Karen grinned right back and felt that all-wrapped-up-in-a-warm-blanket feeling she always got when she was with Claire. Claire was the big sister Karen never had, and was subsequently, her hero. She was an ER nurse at Metro-General Hospital. She was smart, brave, and generous- no matter how long her day, or how grueling her shift.

Claire melted into the chair, still in her scrubs with her hair up. She looked beautiful as always, but Karen could tell by the shadows under her eyes, and the set of her mouth that she’d had a long day.

“You heading home soon? I’m on my way and wanted to see if we could walk together.” Claire sounded tired and rubbed her hand around the nape of her neck, stretching and massaging the kinks out.

“Yeah! I’m just about ready to leave.” Karen said, rounding her desk with a big basket of cookies, “You look like you could use one of these. Trust me, they’re magic.”

Claire grabbed a cookie, took a bite, and groaned in pleasure.

“Long day?” Karen asked, seriously contemplating one last cookie…

“I swear, this city is getting crazier by the minute.” Claire said, between chewing. “Every other night we are getting slammed- gangs, drug dealers, random petty criminals… its like every bad guy in Hells Kitchen is ending up in my ER. I see more cops than families in the waiting room these days. It’s bat-shit.”

“What’s bat-shit?” piped Foggy, breezing in to the room, with Matt following behind a few moments later.

Both men were ready to head home, briefcases in hand. Foggy, with his tie already loosened and his strawberry blonde hair brushing his shoulders, he needed a trim. Matt, carelessly handsome as always, five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw, making him look a bit roguish even in his suit.

“Hey Claire,” Matt said, some how knowing she was there. Foggy looked between Claire and Karen, shaking his head to communicate _how does he do that?_

“Hey boys, “ Claire said, grabbing another cookie, “To answer your question- what’s bat-shit- is that I spent all day patching up a bunch of gang members who were rolled in on stretchers last night looking like they’d picked a fight with a freight train. I’m starting to think that these vigilante stories aren’t just rumors… I think they’re true. I’m seeing the proof of it every time I have an over-night shift.”

“Oh, come on,” Foggy scoffed, “You’re working an Emergency Room in Hell’s Kitchen. Every night is probably insane. Over the years you’ve told us so many crazy stories… most of which, I wish I could erase from my brain.”

Claire rolled her eyes, “This is different, Fog. I’m talking bad guys, real scary dudes, beaten to a pulp almost every night? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Karen felt a knot tighten in her belly. She was thinking of bruised and cut up knuckles, of a man vibrating with rage. _If I catch ‘em, they don’t get away with it._

Matt had also gone still.

“So, you’re telling me you actually believe that ordinary people are dressing up in costumes at night and fighting crime? Friendly neighborhood heroes?” Foggy laughed, as if the very idea was hilarious. His chuckles tapered off as he registered the silence of his three friends. “…really?”

“Look, I don’t know about the costumes, and I don’t know if these people are ‘ordinary’…” Claire said slowly, as if hoping gravitas would add merit to her hunch. “But, yeah. I think there are people out there, fighting for the city, protecting us.”

“That’s just nutty!” Foggy insisted, looking to Karen and Matt for back up and growing more astonished at receiving none. “And if it _is_ true, these ‘vigilantes’ are dangerous. They’re not heroes - they’re _psychos_.”

“No-” Karen wasn’t quite sure how to land her thought, but calling these people _psychos_ just felt wrong. “Claire has seen it. Its drug dealers and criminals being brought in- not innocent people…”

“But who gets to decide that?” Foggy set down his briefcase, freeing up his hands for big gestures. “We can’t have people running around the streets, deciding who’s innocent and who’s guilty, dealing out punishment according to their own twisted set of rules. That’s why we have the cops, that’s why we have due process- _that’s_ what keeps us safe.”

“Some times its not enough.” Matt’s voice was low and serious. When all eyes turned to him, waiting for more of an explanation, he just shrugged. “Its true, isn’t it?”

“You can’t be serious…” Foggy looked truly pained now, “Matt, we’re lawyers. We’ve built our lives on the foundation that there is a _right way_ to get justice- according to the law.”

“Yeah, we work in the system trying to do things the right way… but we know better than most people that the system isn’t perfect. Things slip through the cracks.” Matt looked pensive, uncomfortable even. “Sometimes the _right way_ isn’t enough. And maybe… if someone has to work outside the system in order to do something good… they should.”

It was a rare moment to see Foggy rendered speechless, but here he was, mouth hanging open, eyes wide, no words.

Matt seemed to catch himself and shook his head quickly, hands raised in surrender.

“I’m just thinking out loud here. You’re probably right- these people are psychos.”

Foggy seemed slightly mollified.

“Either way- we all better head home," Claire said, rising from her slump in the chair and stretching her arms over her head. "If we are late to Trish’s birthday tonight I don’t think even psycho vigilantes will be able to save us from her wrath.”

“Yeah! KARAOKE!” Foggy cheered, previous tension completely dissolved at the thought of the party this evening. Foggy _loved_ karaoke and was already looking forward to dusting off at least one of his many Meat Loaf songs.

Claire’s grimaced, “Why? Why do I have friends who love karaoke?”

 

Karen was pretty quiet on her walk home with Claire. She remained quiet once she was finally alone in her apartment, her mind full of the conversation they’d just had. Vigilantes. Are they right? Are they wrong? Are they crazy? Taking justice into their own hands…

Scarred hands. Bruised, scraped knuckles. _Frank._

The topic was complicated enough, without adding in her conflicting feelings for Frank… She agreed with everything that Foggy had said. But, she understood Frank’s side as well. It was so confusing.

She thought about Frank all the time. His tragic story. His sad, stirring eyes. The loneliness that hung on him like chains. The rage he wore like armor. Scarred, scraped hands.

Karen internally face-palmed. She spend too much time thinking about those hands. She’d imagined them touching her. Running all over her; grabbing, guiding, pressing. She was ashamed that she couldn’t stop, scolding herself, and reminding herself that he was in pain, still mourning his wife. There was no way he thought of Karen _that way_. He was reaching out for a friend. She needed to be there for him. To listen, and comfort him… not to dwell on the low grind of his voice, and wonder what he would sound like pressed right up against her neck, breathing her name. _God, what was wrong with her?_ It was terribly inconvenient that the first man she’d felt a connection to in so long, the man who made her feel seen and understood, the man who she was unreasonably attracted to, was this unattainable grieving widower… and possibly a mentally unhinged vigilante. _You really know how to pick ‘em, Page._

Karen let her hair down and ran her hands through it, getting the kinks out. It settled into loose waves around her shoulders _. Good._ She freshened her make up and then flung her closet open, having neglected to think about what to wear tonight until this moment. She was feeling all… revved up. Maybe she’d be able to stop obsessing over Frank if she actually let loose a little tonight. Maybe she’d meet someone… maybe she could blow off a little steam… Karen grinned- decision made. She picked a little pink and peach dress that always gave her a boost of female confidence. It wasn’t too short or plunging, but it was _tight_ and made the most of all of her curves. She felt fun and sexy. It was going to be a good night.

 

Frank couldn’t believe it. After all of the prodding and pestering, he had finally agreed to a night out with David and Curtis. David had _all_ of New York City to choose from, and he had led them to a karaoke bar. A goddamn karaoke bar. Frank would have bailed immediately if Sarah hadn’t squealed with excitement and begged them all to stay; hearts and stars in her eyes. Sarah was David’s wife and it had been far too long since Frank had seen her. He cared for her, like a sister, but being around her was often too painful a reminder of Maria.

The two women had become best friends as young, military wives. They’d relied on each other while David and Frank gone, having their own adventures while their husbands were away. Sarah still said little catch phrases that Maria always used to say… they were so similar. Frank knew it wasn’t fair, but he avoided Sarah. She understood, even though it hurt, and most of the time she kept her distance. Tonight however, she had tagged along and was hanging with the guys, and she was excited and giggling. Frank just didn’t have it in him to say no to her. So, here he was, half way through his third beer, listening to David and Curtis bickering while a red headed dough-boy on stage serenaded the bar with a passionate drunken version of Meat Loaf’s “I Would Do Anything For Love But I Won’t Do That”.

“That guy is my freaking hero!” Sarah laughed, hand over her heart. “He’s killing it!”

Sarah’s cheeks were already a little flushed, both from the heat of the crowded bar and cocktail she was sipping. Frank watched her and smiled, she looked so happy. It was good to see her. He looked back to the stage watching the red head sing his guts out, pounding his fist in the air, hamming it up for the group of people who were cheering him on.

“Yep. A natural rockstar if I’ve ever seen one.” Frank said, tipping his beer towards the stage before taking a long drink. When he put his bottle back down it was empty, Sarah was watching him with a little smile on her face. She looked like she was about to say something sentimental, but she didn’t.

“You guys, this is so great- we need to do this more often!” David said, the arm that wasn’t around Sarah swinging over to loop around Frank’s shoulders. Frank tried to shrug him off, but that just made David cling tighter.

“Alright, alright- shit.” Frank grinned, “Its good to see you guys. Its always good.”

“Of course, its always good. We are the best!” David said, releasing his hold on Frank and settling back against Sarah. “So what do you say? Are you in or what?”

Frank squeezed his eyes tight shut. “God, man, you are relentless.”

The guys had met up an hour or so earlier at a diner so that they could once again make their pitch to Frank about joining them at Anvil. David and Curtis had been building their private security business for a few years now, and it was going well. David was a wizard at anything technological- the ideal consultant for designing and installing security systems. Curtis was the businessman, a trained Navy Field Corpsman, but more than that - he was a people person. He had a special gift for meeting people where they were, and understanding their fears and motivations. He loved helping people. So, what Anvil really needed, the third point of the trifecta, was Frank. At the end of the day, Anvil provided a service: protection. Curtis could understand the clients needs and David could install tech, but they needed someone hands on, who could make quick decisions in the moment, who could train a team, and lead that team into a disaster and back out again, alive and well. That was Frank. Frank was the best and bravest Marine they’d ever known. The quickest mind, the best intuition, the deadliest accuracy, and the most incredible capacity to take hits and keep on running; Frank was a next level human.

More important than any of that, Frank was their best friend. He was hurting and he needed help. Curtis and David had endless conversations about it, both with and without him. So, as they made their case to him at the diner, leveling him with facts and numbers and rhetorical questions that were impossible to answer, Frank had to admit they made a lot of sense. He loved these guys. He missed them. Dammit, he missed using his brain and his aim. But he just wasn’t sure that he was still the same guy any more. He had a feeling that the soldier they wanted was buried away somewhere deep inside him, under a mountain of rubble that lay untouched since his world exploded. He tried to explain this, but they were undeterred, especially Curtis who insisted that the parts of him that he felt were missing, weren’t really gone- they were just weak because Frank had been starving them. Vague as ever, Frank promised he’d think about it. He was saved from more needling by Sarah, whose arrival signaled their moving to a second location- this karaoke bar. Frank assumed the conversation was over, and didn’t think the guys would badger him about it while she was here- but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

There he was, gripping his empty beer bottle, feeling cornered by his three friends, all of whom seemed to be up to something. David and Curtis reclined while Sarah leaned in towards Frank, eyes wide and innocent.

“Come on, Frankie.”

 _Ah, the secret weapon._ Frank clicked his tongue, already feeling his doom.

“The guys really need you. We all would love to see you more. Please? You can try it just for a little while, and if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.” Sarah leaned in further, for the kill. “I would feel so much better knowing you were with them, keeping them safe.”

Frank shook his head again, working to keep his expression neutral, but his eyes were laughing. “Jesus, Sarah, laying it on pretty thick, huh?”

She just shrugged, as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

Frank hung his head and sighed. They got him good. Maybe… maybe it was time to … try. When he looked up, he had that side smile. “OK.”

“Yes!” Curtis and David slapped five over Sarah’s head while she reached across the table to grab Frank’s hand and give it a squeeze.

“Damn! Why didn’t we bring her in sooner?” Curtis said through his laughter, reaching out a hand to grab Frank’s shoulder. “This is going to be good, man. You’ll see.”

“You did it, baby!” David said, leaning over to give Sarah way too big of a kiss.

“More drinks!” Curtis said, rising to head to the bar, when he stopped and did a double take towards the stage, “Oh damn, that’s my friend Claire…”

Frank turned and looked towards the karaoke setup to see two women on stage, clearly beckoning and begging a few more people to join them. One was tall and exotic, the other was a twiggy blonde, both were giggling and trying to pull another woman up, but she flipped them both the bird and shouted, “PASS.” The one flipping the bird had black hair, and was vaguely familiar…

The opening bars of Aretha Franklin’s “Natural Woman” started up over the speakers. The twiggy blonde grabbed her microphone quickly, pointing her finger out at the crowd with authority.

“Don’t you try to sneak away, Karen Page! It’s my birthday and you _have_ to sing with me!”

BOOM. Franks heart thudded as soon as he heard her name, his eyes instantly scanning the crowd. She was here. Clearly, she’d been attempting an escape, but now rerouted herself to the stage. Her face was slightly red as she took her own microphone, but she was clearly happy, and the three friends wrapped their arms around each other as the one who was apparently the birthday girl started to sing…

“Looking out on the morning rain, I used to feel so un-inspired…”

Her voice was nothing special, but Frank couldn’t have noticed. He was staring at Karen as if she might be a hallucination, she might disappear the next time he blinked. She looked… different. Her dress, it was tight. He’d seen her on stage before, but she’d always been holding a guitar. Now, he could just watch her bend and sway. Frank was feeling light headed, and it wasn’t just the alcohol in his veins.

The other day at the coffee shop, and their intense moments afterwards, had been like a kick in the head. He thought about Karen all the time. The way she made him feel- human, and alive, and understood. The way she could make him laugh. They way he felt when he made her laugh. They way she’d felt in his arms the one time he held her. The way he imagined she’d feel the few times he let his mind wander…

Frank was feasting his eyes on her. When the second verse hit, the other two women waved Karen to take the lead, and she did. She stepped forward, a little wobbly in her heels… a bit tipsy? But her voice was a steady and beautiful.

_When my soul was in the lost and found_

_You came along to claim it_

_I didn’t know what was wrong with me_

_Till your kiss helped me name it_

_Now I’m no longer doubtful, what I’m living for_

_And if I make you happy I don’t need to do more…_

Karen’s voice pierced Frank, as it did every damn time he heard it. She was being playful, reaching out to her friends in the audience, swinging back towards the other girls on the stage, laughing. But when the last chorus hit, she was in her own world; eyes closed, the hand that wasn’t holding the mic reaching up and gripping her hair. Frank suddenly felt that he’d worn too many layers to this bar, it was stifling in there.

_You make me feel, you make me feel,_

_You make me feel like a natural woman…_

The women sounded surprisingly good singing together, but all Frank could hear was Karen. All he could see was her body’s slow movements. She and her friends were giving it their all, tossing their hair around, feeling sexy and feminine and fun. Frank tracked the movements of Karen’s hands as they floated from her hair, to her face and neck, as they skimmed her sides and her hips. _Damn_.

The crowd went wild when the song ended, and the ladies took funny little bows. Frank almost unconsciously noted that nearly every eye- especially the male ones in the room- had been riveted to the stage during that last song.

“…ok?” Curtis had said something.

“What?” Frank asked, feeling like he was coming up from under water.

Curtis had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Well, well, you’re still a flesh and blood man after all, Castle.”

Frank realized his mouth had been hanging open and he snapped it shut, glaring at his friend. “What were you saying?”

“I said, I’m going to go say hi to Claire and her friends… do you want to come? Or do you want to get us some more drinks?”

As if in a dream, Frank heard him self say, “I’ll go with you.” and he tried not to let Curt’s surprised and overly excited reaction get on his nerves.

Then, he was walking towards Karen and her group of friends, feeling as much like a nervous teenager as he ever had. This thing with Karen… it was really special. And it was private. He hadn’t told Curt or David about her, mostly because he didn’t share details of his days with anyone any more, but also because it felt good to have this little glowing thing all to himself. Karen was a place to him. A peaceful, safe, wonderful place, and now that place was going to be full of other people. But he couldn’t avoid this, right? He wasn’t just going to leave the bar, and he couldn’t stay here without saying hello. No, if she was in his vicinity, he wanted to be near her. _Get it together, man._ He was going to meet and endure her friends, and Curt would be curious, and Frank would have to answer questions. Dread was expanding in his skull.

Frank was so tangled up in his thoughts, he almost didn’t register Curtis greeting his friend, Claire. Claire _whooped_ at the sight of Curt and raced over to hug him. Curt was just about to introduce Frank when, almost in slow motion, her hair floating over her eyes, Karen turned and saw Frank. Their eyes locked. Her face lit up one of her signature shattering smiles, and Frank felt it in his chest like fireworks in the night.

“Frank!” she squealed, and hurried over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. She stumbled a bit, laughing a little breathlessly, and Frank caught her, steadying her against himself. Her eyes were bright. She was tipsy and cute and happy to see him. The tension that had been building up inside Frank’s head evaporated.

He held her a little tighter, a small smile on his lips. “Careful, ma’am.”

“I can’t believe I’m seeing you right now…” she said softly, arms still around his neck. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He said back, still holding her, watching her smile up at him.

Suddenly remembering that they were being observed by a large group of people, Frank made sure Karen was settled on her feet and removed his hands from her. He faced the group and deliberately ignored Curtis’s wide-eyed stare.

“Everyone! This is Frank!” Karen introduced him to the group at large, as if it was obvious who he was and they all should have known already. “Frank- this is everyone! Trish- its her birthday! Matt, Foggy, Mal, Luke, Jess, and Claire.

Frank nodded along with the introductions, matching a face to each name, when he stopped on _Jess_. The girl who had refused to sing karaoke… he _did_ recognize her. The sour-faced bartender from the dive where Karen sings. _Great._

“And this is Curtis,” Claire piped in, still hugging him around the middle, “We’ve worked together at the VA. Remember that vet I told you about, Luke? The one with the really great support group?”

Luke nodded, smiling, and got up to shake Curt’s hand. Frank rarely met a man who made him feel small, but Luke was huge. Frank stood up a little taller when he also shook Luke’s hand.

Conversations quickly resumed after that with Trish, the birthday girl, holding court, telling a story about something crazy that had happened on-air during her radio show. The whole group was rapt and laughing. And just like that, Frank was like a normal person. More drinks were ordered. He was hanging out at a bar with a group of people, a pretty girl beside him, having a good time. It was heady. He almost felt afraid to move or speak, like anything he did might break the spell.

Then Karen leaned into him, “I wouldn’t have pictured you singing karaoke… but now that we’re here- you gonna sing for me?”

“Fuck no.” he said bluntly, but softened the blow by clinking his beer against hers.

“No fair!” she pouted, “why’d you come to a karaoke bar if you don’t want to sing the hits?”

“Curt dragged me here with our buddy David and…” Frank said, looking around the room, “Where are they anyway? Oh… what the shit?”

David and Sarah were strutting on to the stage striking poses in a face off. The amazing beats of Brandy and Monica’s “The Boy Is Mine” started booming over the speakers. Curt and Frank locked eyes and then both burst out laughing.

 

Karen watched, enthralled, as the couple did the most fantastically insane version of “The Boy Is Mine” the world has ever seen. The tiny, lovely woman was Brandy, and the tall, gangly man was Monica, both were sassy and hilarious with… some fairly sexually explicit dance moves. Clearly, these were the other friends Frank had come here with, and watching him laugh was a revelation.

She’d never seen him like this. He looked years younger. His laugh was low, and rough, and wonderful. His eyes were a little bleary from alcohol, but it was a good look on him, he was loose and relaxed. If Karen had started the night feeling revved up, she was absolutely overheating now, there was probably steam rising off her skin.

When “The Boy Is Mine” came to its dramatic finish, the couple came over, introductions were made, and they all spent the rest of the night as one big group. It was so much fun, being together, drinking and laughing… but Karen was having a bit of a hard time participating. Frank had draped an arm around the back of her chair and she had scooted closer. Physical contact between them had always been brief before, and now it was like an overload. She could barely even form thoughts, she was so aware of every place she and Frank touched and how very warm he was.

Karen could feel her friends watching them every now and then, but she was having too much fun to care or be self-conscious. She and Frank just fit together so well. He’d just met pretty much everyone who mattered in her life, and it was as easy as breathing. They sat close, sometimes talking to the whole group, sometimes slipping into their own conversation, occasionally catching one another’s glance and holding the eye contact until Karen thought she’d just go crazy.

Eventually, the night wound down and everyone agreed it was time to pack it in. As her friends dispersed, Karen announced she was going to walk home rather than take a car. She was sure Frank would offer to walk her home- and he did not disappoint. Karen’s friends, for the most part, handled that with dignity, though there were a lot of cheesy grins, an overt wink from Trish, and a big eye roll from Jess. On Frank’s side, Curtis played it cool, while David and Sarah looked positively maniacal, David shouting over his shoulder, “Have fuuuuuunnnn!” while Sarah dragged him away.

Finally, they were alone. After a whole night of unexpected surprises, they were back in familiar territory. Frank and Karen, alone, on the sidewalk, at night. But it wasn’t exactly the same. She wasn’t embarrassing herself with every other sentence she spoke. He was relaxed, mellow. Tipsy as she was, she kept bumping into him, as if magnetically drawn back to him again and again. They’d laugh, she’d apologize, and less than a minute later she’d wobble in her heels and bump him again. Eventually, he offered his arm and she took it. He was so warm, his muscle firm under her fingers.

“All your friends, they seem like good people.” Frank said, watching their feet.

“They are. I’m the world’s luckiest girl,” Karen said in a sing-song voice, making him smile. “Yours too.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Yeah, they’re great, when they aren’t driving me crazy.” His voice sounded grumpy but his eyes were smiling. “I, uh, took a job with them today.”

Karen was tickled. He never offered information like this, never opened up random thoughts. Karen had poked and stumbled her way into getting him to talk about his past, and his secret life, but never any day-to-day things.

“What? Tell me everything!”

Frank startled a bit. He scratched the back of his head with his free hand, looking shy.

_Calm down, Karen! You’re gonna freak him out!_

“They have a business, a private security outfit.” He said, looking down. God, it was adorable how bashful he got. “I’m coming on as a team leader… training, logistics, extraction tactics, special weapons…” He trailed off and looked up at her.

“That sounds… exactly perfect for you.” Karen brought her other hand up so that both hands could give his arm an encouraging squeeze. She tried not to focus on the fact that both hands were not even close to wrapping around his bicep.

“We’ll see.” He said, letting his gaze drop from her face back down to their feet as they kept walking. “I keep picturing myself in a suit, babysitting some young punk… bored as hell.”

“Well, I like the part about picturing you in a suit.” Karen said it, and once she saw the smile on his face, and how he had to look away all shy again, she wasn’t even sorry.

He turned back to her, eyes alive.

“So, that’s what _the Karen Page_ is into, huh? Guys in fancy suits?”

“Maybe.” She said playfully, “But that’s not the _only_ thing she’s into. She’s a woman of eclectic tastes.”

He nodded at that and waited, raising his eyebrows to get her to continue.

“Oh, she likes all sorts. Guys who love to read. Guys who will eat super spicy Thai food with her. Guys who play music. Must love dogs.” she said, counting on her fingers, her voice getting softer, “Guys who walk her home.”

Karen blushed. She was being so obvious, but she couldn’t help it. This night had been perfect. Now he was here, staring at her with the same intensity that gave her goose bumps the first time they met. His gaze was scorching her everywhere he looked, from her eyes, to her hair, her neck, her hand on his arm. She was going to combust.

“Speaking of, this is me.” She tilted her head at the nearest brownstone.

Frank looked up at the building, “I know.”

Confused, Karen quirked her head with a wrinkled nose, “What? How could you know that?”

Frank leveled Karen with a serious look, “Recognized that rusted old bucket of bolts you call a car parked out front.”

Karen made choking noise before she threw her head back laughing and Frank grinned watching her.

“Hey! No one talks like that about my baby!” Karen wound up her hand and made to fake hit him, like she so often did. Instead of fake defending himself, as was their _thing_ , Frank suddenly moved so fast it was a blur. He grabbed both of her wrists, bringing them behind her back, securing them in one hand. Karen was so startled her lost her breath in a whoosh. She looked up at him, wide eyed, to find him actually laughing out loud. She could feel it shaking his whole body since they were now pressed belly to belly. She joined him, dizzy at his sudden closeness. They watched each other as their laughter died.

“Am I under arrest?”

“No, ma’am. I’m not a cop.”

“No,” Karen said, not even trying to break the light hold he had on her wrists behind her back. “You don’t seem like the type. Not much of a rule follower.”

“You got me there.” His free hand was moving up her arm, feather light, a caress. Karen tried not to sigh.

“Well, tough guy, I’m not scared’a you.” She teased in a whisper, tilting her head up, practically begging.

He huffed. Frank’s eyes kept flickering to her mouth; he seemed almost unaware of slowly leaning in.

“Should be. I’m dangerous.”

“Not to me,” she breathed.

“No… not to you.” He brushed her nose with his, his forehead meeting hers. Karen closed her eyes, waiting. Her skin was electrified. _Please…_

“Hey. _HEY! Don’t fucking move._ Gimme your purse, lady.”

The voice hissed at them from out of nowhere. Instantly, the dreamy haze Karen had been swaying in was shattered. Frank had gone stone still, staring over her shoulder at whatever fool it was that had trespassed into their moment. Karen couldn’t turn around. Frank was holding her in place. She peered up at him. His face was like a mask, eyes hard, giving nothing away. His breath slowed.

“Alright, sweetheart. Its ok.” He whispered to Karen, though his eyes stayed on the man behind her. One finger guided her purse strap off of her shoulder, into his hand. “OK. Take it easy. We don’t want any trouble.”

Frank stepped around Karen, holding her purse out towards the thief, pulling Karen behind his body with an iron grip.

Frank took one more slow step forward, “OK. Easy. _Easy.”_

And suddenly the pressure of his body against hers was gone, Karen heard a scuffle and then a shout that got choked off. Karen swung around just in time to see that Frank had somehow gotten the assailant’s gun away from him and was beating him in the face with it. The man crumpled to the ground and Frank sprang on him, hitting him over and over.

Karen was in shock. She couldn’t see all of what was happening, Frank’s body blocked her view. But she could see that the hapless criminal was barely able to even attempt fighting back beneath the onslaught of Frank’s blows. She could see blood on the sidewalk. _Oh god…_

Frank didn’t stop. He kept going and going.

_He’s going to kill that man…_

“Frank… _FRANK. STOP!”_ Karen found her voice, walking toward him on shaking legs.

Frank stopped the beating, but didn’t turn around.

“Go inside, Karen. You go inside where it’s safe.” His voice was gravel.

“Frank, no… we have to- “

“ _KAREN GO INSIDE NOW.”_ Frank turned to glare at her. There was blood splattered on his face.

“Jesus, Frank… you have to stop.” Her heart was pounding, her throat closed up. She absently noticed she was crying. “He could die.”

“GOOD.” He growled, still glaring at her. His chest was starting to heave now. She could see a million words building up in his chest, clawing their way up and out. She had no idea what he was going to say. “He… He pointed a gun at you. _He could have killed you._ He almost… “

Frank lost it. He hunched back over the fallen thief, beating the living shit out of him, making sounds like he was sobbing.

“Frank! Stop! He didn’t get me! I’m fine!” Karen pleaded, actually grabbing him by the shoulders.

When Frank turned to face her again, his eyes were bloodshot and full of tears. “He almost…”

“But he didn’t, Frank… He didn’t.” Karen tugged on his shirt, trying to get him up off of the other man’s motionless body. “Don’t do this. Don’t do this and say its for me.”

Frank shuddered, then slowly, stiffly rose to his feet. He absently tucked the man’s gun into the back of his jeans. He wouldn’t look at her. He just stood there looking lost, and confused. The loneliest man in the world.

Karen wrapped her arms around herself. She didn’t know what to do. Her whole body was beginning to shake.

“I’m going to call the police…” she said, and Frank still wouldn’t look at her. “You should go.”

He stood silent for so long, Karen wondered if he'd heard her. But eventually he looked up, straight into her eyes. Everything he felt laid bare before her. Fear, rage, certainty, doubt, self-loathing… grief. He stared at her for a long time. She wondered what he saw.

Finally, he nodded, turned, and walked away.

Karen waited until he disappeared into the darkness before she called the cops. Once she hung up with them, she allowed herself to weep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, I started this piece to practice writing dialog. I usually have an easy time writing plot, but I struggle most with actually getting my characters to talk to each other. So, since I love the characters of Frank and Karen so much and I LOVE their dynamic when they are together, I started this piece with the intention of just writing short chapters... Frank coming to a bar to hear a girl sing... short conversations they'd have. But this beast has become something else entirely. I'm really enjoying writing it and I hope you are too. Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5

Frank was crouched low in a hallway, eyes closed, silent as death. His head was angled towards the wall, listening for signs of life on the other side of the nearby door. His breathing was slow and measured. His eyes snapped open making a quick, meaningful nod to his partner, Gunner, crouched similarly on the other side of the doorjamb. Both men were dressed head to toe in black tactical gear, both with large guns held at the ready. Communicating without words, they moved in sync. Frank crouched even lower to the ground, nearly on his belly. Gunner slowly, cautiously reached towards the doorknob. This time it was Gunner who nodded to Frank, holding up his fingers, counting down. Five, four, three, two…

Gunner yanked the door open. There was a riot of gunfire. The three men who were inside the room had fired the instant the door swung open, shooting at blank air, where they assumed their enemy’s would be, giving Frank a split second advantage from where he slid on the ground to shoot out their ankles. The shot men grunted in pain, one collapsing quickly and howling profanities. 

“Alright, alright. Lock it up, kid.” Frank said, rising, and walking casually into the room, Gunner behind him.

“You guys did well. Held us off for…” Frank looked at his watch, “Almost an hour. That’s good, but lets talk about what went wrong here.”

The men nodded followed Frank as he took a set of blueprints from his pocket and spread them across a nearby desk. Gunner looked relatively unscathed, if not a bit sweaty, but the other men now had bright yellow paint splattered all over the legs of their tactical blacks from Frank’s paintballs. The youngest, who’d been moaning on the ground, clammed up and fell in with the rest of the guys, a sour look on his face.

“OK. You started off well, working smart, fast, and safe.” Frank’s finger began tracing the progress the team had made over the last hour across the blueprint.

This had been a tactical exercise. Anvil had a large warehouse that they kept mostly empty so that they could build elaborate floor plans and scenarios with movable walls. This allowed them to create realistic spaces for tactical teams to work in, practicing hostage scenarios, urban close quarters combat, bomb detection and diffusion… anything Curt and Frank could imagine. Today the space had been set up to replicate a hotel. The three-man team had been tasked to keep their “client” safe. Their brief told them that their client was a middle aged Senator, but in reality, their client was a mannequin in a suit, with a bad wig, and a permanent look of pleasant surprise on his plastic face.

“Relocating from the executive suite quick, when you were alerted of the security breach was smart. Here and here, “ Frank pointed out, “also, good instincts. It fell apart here.“ he jabbed his finger on the grid. “What went wrong?”

“We let you get between us and the stairwell. With the elevator being shut down, we had no evac route, and were just waiting for you to attack.” One of the guys guessed.

Frank nodded, affirmative. “Good. What was the better move?”

There was a pause. All of the guys wanted to impress Frank, no one wanted to get this wrong.

“We could have tried going outside? Maybe moving balcony to balcony, to get around you?” The youngest guessed. Frank shrugged.

“Maybe. That’s not a bad idea.” The kid seemed to grow a few inches taller under Frank’s praise. “If it were me, I would have tried the elevator. Yeah, the car is shut down, but according to the brief, our Senator here is middle aged and in good shape, so I would have tried prying the doors open and using the ladder to climb down the shaft.”

Gunner laughed, which allowed the rest of them to chuckle. “Of course, that would be your pick. Because you’re one crazy SOB.”

Frank shook his head, smiling. “Well, I’m not saying it would be easy, but our Senator here would be better off than he is now.”

All five men turned to look at the mannequin. There was a big blotch of yellow paint splattered between its eyes.

The three men who had been guarding the “Senator” turned back to Frank with equal looks of awe and frustration.

“How the hell did you do that?” The young one asked again, “You shot all three of us, AND a kill shot at the Senator in, like, less than 2 seconds. Who are you, man?”

Frank looked down, rubbed his knuckles. For the first time, he looked less than completely in charge, he looked a little lost. _Who am I?_ He didn’t have to struggle to answer the kid, because Curtis entered the room, all smiles.

“Damn fellas! You three did great. I can tell you’re learning a lot and improving with each of these exercises. You’ll almost never be up against a team as skilled as Castle and Gunner, and you held your own. Good work. You all can head home. See you tomorrow.”

The guys shook hands and headed out, Gunner hanging back to actually give Frank a hug. Frank gave his back a quick pound before clearing his throat with a low, “My man.”

“Its damn good to have you here, boss.” Gunner said, grinning. Slapping Curtis five as he exited.

Frank and Curt stood in comfortable silence until they couldn’t hear the thumping of the guys’ footsteps anymore.

“He’s right. It is damn good to have you here.” Curt said, trying to read Frank’s face.

Frank nodded, but couldn’t meet Curt’s eyes. He was all up in his head, thoughts sparking up and fizzling out so fast he wasn’t able to keep track of them.

“You’re good with the guys. They’ve all made progress just in these last few weeks since you’ve been here. So have you.” Frank looked up at him. “Even if you don’t see it yet, this is good for you, man. I’m telling you.”

Frank let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

“I know. I can tell sometimes. Sometimes, we’ll be in an exercise or I’ll be teaching the guys something and I’ll feel… like myself. But then that just sits wrong, because I’m not the same anymore, I’m just not.”

Frank was massaging his knuckles again, uncomfortable in his skin and he didn’t really know why.

Curt put his hand on Frank’s shoulder and waited until Frank looked at him before he started talking.

“You are different. I know it, David knows it, you know it. But that doesn’t mean you’re not _you_. This takes time, Frank. You don’t have to have everything figured out right now. You don’t have to wait until you have all of the answers before you can start living your life again. It’s not wrong for you to live this life- the one you got. Its not wrong for this life to be different, to be _good_.”

Frank almost launched into a monologue about how it was way worse than Curt knew, how he didn’t understand. But Curt did understand. He had his own share of suffering. Plus, Curtis was smart. He understood people better than they understood themselves.

“I don’t know how to let it be good. I don’t see goodness anymore.”

Curt scoffed at that. “Yeah, you do. You can see goodness just fine. You’re just too scared to go after it.”

Frank rolled his eyes. He knew the conversation had changed topics now, and Curt was talking about Karen. She seemed to be the only thing Curt and David were capable of discussing now that they had convinced him to take the job at Anvil.

After that disastrous night, Frank had come in to the office for his first day of work so pale and withdrawn that Curtis and David were alarmed, thinking he must have had an injury they couldn’t see or something. They had been excited and eager, not only for him to finally join them at Anvil, but also to needle him with questions about _Karen_ until he inevitably threatened to quit. They didn’t get to have their fun though. Frank was a mess, his eyes were glazed over. They simply sat together, pouring him cup after cup of coffee, waiting. When Frank finally did start talking, it was like a dam broke. He told them everything; about panic attacks and nightmares, about sleepless nights, and the ringing in his ears. About hunting in the streets, full of rage, practically frothing at the mouth to hurt someone, for anyone to give him an excuse. About punishing criminals the way he wished he could have punished the assholes who’d killed his wife. He told them about the pretty girl with the pretty voice who made the panic go away, who helped him escape. He told them how she seemed to care about him without even needing a reason, and how the weeks had gone by and she’d become important to him, precious and good and sweet. How that night at that goddamn karaoke bar had been the best night he’d had in years, and she was the bright, shining sun at the center of it. He even, haltingly, told them how he’d felt walking her home. How he was sure she was going to ask him to come upstairs, how he would have said yes. But then there was the mugger, and the gun, and the red stains on the sidewalk. Then there was her tear stained face, and she was hugging herself, looking so small, and she told him to go.

The guys listened gravely, and when he was done there was a long silence.  

“I’m so sorry, Frankie. I’m so sorry you’ve been going through all of this.” David said, throwing his arm around Frank in a way Frank normally would have shoved off, but that day, he sank into.

It was the longest and best talk they’d all had in years; talking about Maria, trauma, grief, and Frank’s mental state. They spent a long time talking about his “vigilante shit”, as David called it. Curt was adamant that it was unhealthy, a death wish, an obsession that kept Frank miserable and unable to move on with his life. David saw Curt’s point, but countered that Frank was doing good deeds for people who needed help. It was dangerous, but if that’s what Frank felt he needed to do to properly mourn his wife, then why not let him clean up the streets? Frank was feeling too numb to add much to this portion of the conversation, and in the end, they could only conclude that all three were torn.

The last item discussed was Karen Page. On this, David and Curtis were totally unified. Frank should reach out to her immediately, explain himself, help her understand what happened in his brain the moment he saw a gun pointed at her.

“Dude, you have to talk to her.” David had said, elbows on his knees, leaning toward Frank. “You two totally just… lit each other up. It was amazing to see. She cares about you- its obvious- you can’t just give up without a try.”

“David, after what she saw… she probably thinks I’m fucking crazy.”

“Well, you kind of are. But… I think she already knew that from the start, and she still liked you.”

Frank shook his head. “You should have seen her face… she was done. I’m dead to her.”

Curtis had smiled at that. “I don’t think so. That’s the thing about you, Frank. Even when you die, you don’t stay dead.”

That had been a month ago, and all these weeks later, Curt still wouldn’t let it go. Here he was now, making the same points he and David hammered away at every other day.

“You miss her. You obviously want to talk to her.” Curt said, as they made their way towards the big doors of the Anvil warehouse, “Just try. From everything you’ve told us about her, I really think she’ll understand.”

As usual, Frank had no response other than a blank stare.

“Frank,” Curt said, speaking as if he was addressing a pouting child. “Don’t be a wallowing asshole.”

 

Frank thought of Karen on his train ride home. It was Wednesday. He had somehow survived the last four Wednesday’s without giving in to the temptation to head to the bar to hear her sing. If he picked a seat way towards the back, maybe she wouldn’t even notice he was there. _No._ He rejected that idea whenever it slithered into his brain. She would definitely notice… and he would hate it if she didn’t.

He missed her. Goddammit, he missed her so bad it felt like a physical wound, a raw ache. But how could he face her? She was probably scared of him now. She was sweet and kind and beautiful, she didn’t need him and his baggage weighing her down. Even if it had seemed…

Frank sighed and let his head thump back onto the train window. There he went, analyzing for the 100th time every single moment of that night at the bar and their walk home. He was pretty out of practice with social niceties, but he was still human. He knew his instincts were good, and his instincts were howling at him that night, roaring that she wanted him. That somehow, despite the wreck she knew he was, he had managed to charm this gorgeous creature. She lit up when she saw him, hugged him, and remained at his side when she had all the rest of her friends to be with. She’d been flushed, laughing. She’d leaned into his every touch. She’d wanted him to kiss her. Frank’s chest tightened, remembering her upturned face, her biting her lip.

He’d wanted her too. Hell, he still wanted her. That was a whole mindfuck in itself. He had no idea how he actually would have handled it if he had made it upstairs…

_God, don’t go there. Not now. Just figure out a way to fix this._

The rest of the train ride and his walk home didn’t provide Frank with any answers. There was no perfect way to get back in Karen’s good graces, but he’d never get there if he was too chickenshit to face her. So, he was headed to the bar tonight to hear a pretty girl sing, he’d figure out the rest when he got there. Frank was always at his best when he was under the gun.

 

Karen’s emotional hangover from that night with Frank seemed to come in waves, ebbing and flowing unpredictably. It had taken hours that night, with the police, the EMTs, the neighbors coming out to the sidewalk to watch, or peaking through their windows at the scene. Once the mugger had been taken away to the hospital, Karen had given her statement to a Detective Mahoney. He seemed like a good guy, smart and understanding. Maybe a little _too_ understanding. When Karen described the person who’d left the mugger in a bloody pile on the concrete, as “just some guy” who she didn’t get a good look at, the dead pan skepticism on Mahoney’s face made Karen want to shrink into the sidewalk. But she kept her story vague; she wasn’t about to turn Frank in.

It had been a month, and she was still just as confused now as she had been that morning, having not slept a wink, riding residual adrenaline spikes. She was scared from what happened, but not of Frank. She wondered if she should be.

_“I’m dangerous.”_

_“Not to me.”_

_“No… not to you.”_

She hoped he was ok.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Matt said, appearing at her side, reaching for a nearby stool and sliding up to the bar with that strange agility of his.

“You’re here early.” Karen said, happy to see him, and glad for a distraction from her thoughts.

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you. We don’t really get a lot of chances at work and… I don’t know, I think something’s been off lately.” He was a bit hesitant, not wanting to offend. “…Am I right?”

Karen smiled. His handsome face was so earnest. Matt was a good friend; always direct and to-the-point, checking in on her, making sure she was ok.

“I’m alright. Things have been… I mean, work is great, music is great… but there’s just some other stuff that’s been messing with my head lately.” Karen said, lowering her voice so Jess and Malcolm wouldn’t hear from where they were flirting/bickering over by the cash register.

“What kind of stuff?”

Karen raked her hands through her hair, tousling the waves as she searched for where to even start.

“Its… God, its kind of a long story.” Karen laughed at herself.

Matt just smiled and waited, and she loved him for it. She trusted him more than almost anyone in the world. He was, actually, the perfect person to talk through this with.

“OK. Do you remember that guy, Frank, from Trish’s birthday?”

Matt’s grin widened to a full blown smile as he nodded. “I knew it.”

Karen chuckled, “Yes, Matthew, the blind man who sees everything.”

Matt’s grin stayed in place but he held up his hand. “Sorry for interrupting. So- Frank…”

Karen sighed. “It’s hard to know where to start, but months ago, Frank started coming here to listen to me sing. And… we just clicked. Like, the first moment I met him he was already important to me. We just resonated, you know? And it was weird because, he’s not this warm, welcoming guy… he’s actually rough and kind of intimidating. He- this is going to sound weird- but he actually always looks like he just got out of a fight, black eyes, cuts, bandages…”

Matt’s face hardened.

“Its super complicated, Matt. I got to know him, and care about him. His story is _tragic_. And… I think he’s one of the Hell’s Kitchen vigilantes.” The moment she heard herself say it, Karen shut her mouth, cringing.

Matt didn’t laugh at her. In fact, he looked dead serious.

“Do you mean- you think he has special abilities?”

Karen’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. That was not at all what she thought he’d ask.

“Um… no. He’s a normal, but he’s a highly trained Marine. Special Forces.” Karen waited as Matt absorbed that information. “He fights normal criminals- gangs and drug dealers- not… supervillains… if there even is such a thing.”

Matt took a long pause. Karen could tell he was thinking rapidly.

“That sounds really dangerous.”

“It is.”

“So, what happened?” Matt asked, almost whispering. “Something happened that made you upset.”

Karen was so used to Matt’s uncanny intuition that it almost never phased her anymore, but his ability to read her mind still surprised her sometimes.

“Well, after karaoke, he walked me home. And it was perfect. It was fun and romantic and… _perfect_. But then right when we got to my house, we got mugged.”

“WHAT-“

“Wait- I should have said we _almost_ got mugged. The guy pulled a gun on us and- honestly, it happened so fast- Frank grabbed the guy’s gun and beat the living shit out of him. I mean, it was _terrible_. I’ve never seen anything like that before…”

Karen shuddered, remembering.

“I haven’t seen him since. I’m actually really worried about him. I miss him… but I just don’t know what to think about all of this.”

“I’m glad he was there, Karen. If anything would have happened to you…” Matt trailed off. “Did he explain it to you? This _vigilante_ business?”

“Well, I don’t think he’d call himself a vigilante… but he told me about a few things. Helping people who were being robbed, or attacked. Taking down some drug dealers who were causing trouble on his block. I know he doesn’t tell me everything… but the stories are mostly the same. He sees something bad and he stops it.” Karen paused, not sure if she wanted to continue, but needing to talk this out with someone. “His wife was killed… I think this is his way of dealing with that.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Matt… what he does scares me, but I don’t really think its completely wrong. Is that bad?”

Matt’s shook his head slowly. “I think this situation is too complicated to be called good or bad. I think Frank has seen evil, and now he’s fighting against it. I wrestle with these same thoughts… if something bad is happening and I can stop it, what kind of a man am I if I do nothing? Innocent people get hurt all the time, and the system just isn’t enough to protect them… “

Matt seemed lost in his own world for a moment, before snapping himself out of it and turning back to Karen.

“I don’t think its bad. I think you care about him.”

“I do. But I feel lost… the whole thing is complicated and intimidating.”

“Well, Karen Page, I fully believe you can handle ‘complicated and intimidating’.” Matt said, before he leaned in, gave her a one armed hug, and flagged Jess to bring them more beer.

 

When Karen was half way through her set, she was frustrated that she still hadn’t found her flow. She couldn’t lose herself in the music. Her mind was churning with the conversation she and Matt just had. Her hands were playing guitar on cruise control, singing was breathing, and her mind was elsewhere. She was thinking about Frank. She needed to talk to him, to find him somehow, to make sure he was doing ok. Her eyes were closed as she finished up whatever song she was barely conscious of playing. When she opened them, they landed on a hulking shape in the corner booth. A man in a hoodie, his faced hidden. She blinked, double-checking he was really there, not just a mirage conjured up by her imagination.

He pulled back his hood. It was Frank.

And Karen was so happy, and relieved, and frustrated, and surprised, that she could have cried. But she didn’t. She smiled, soft and sweet. Frank stared up at her like she was an angel, a miracle, a dream.

Their eye contact lasted long enough to let the bar become awkwardly hushed before Karen rallied and stepped back to her mic.

“I’ve got a new cover for you all today. Hope I’ve got some Springsteen fans out there.” She said, and started strumming the soulful opening chords of ‘The Wrestler’.

 

Frank looked down, smiling and shaking his head. How many get-out-of-jail-free cards could this girl give him? The moment she started singing his gaze shot back to the stage. Her voice- _goddamn_. She slayed him.

He listened, and he wasn’t the only one caught up in her spell. The whole bar had gone quiet, listening to the story. By the time she reached the last verse, Frank had a lump in his throat.

 

_These things that have comforted me, I drive away_

_This place that is my home I cannot stay_

_My only faith’s in the broken bones and bruises I display_

_Have you ever seen a one-legged man trying to dance his way free?_

_If you’ve ever seen a one-legged man then you’ve seen me_

 

The song was so damn perfect. A tale about someone taking an honest look at themselves, questioning all their choices, wondering if they’d fucked everything up, hoping to find a silver lining somewhere, somehow.

How did she do it? Every time. She nailed him to the wall. She had him.

When she caught his gaze at the end of the song, he nearly melted into the floor. She barely looked his way for the rest of her set, while he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Only after her last song, as Karen was packing up her guitar and shaking the hands of the folks who approached her with tips and compliments, did Frank’s nerves remember that this was still a delicate situation. Just because she’d sang ‘The Boss’ for him didn’t mean she forgave him, or trusted him… or even liked him. He needed to get this right.

_Don’t screw this up, asshole_.

The crowd around Karen was thinning and Frank moved to get up, to go to her. As if reading his thoughts, Karen pinned him with a glance and held up one finger. _Wait._

Frank sat back down. He would wait. He’d wait all damn night if she asked him to. He’d sleep on the stoop outside her house.

Frank watched her finish packing up her gear. He watched her go to the bar and order something. He immediately received a death glare from Jessica. _Hell._ He watched as Karen had a short exchange with her friend Matt before giving him a giant hug. Frank knew Matt was blind… but he seemed to be staring straight at him. _Weird._

And then all thoughts of Karen’s friends flew from his mind because the woman herself was walking toward him with a beer in each hand. Her pretty face was inscrutable; he had no idea what she was thinking. He felt himself break into a sweat. Karen arrived at the booth where he sat; she set the two bottles on the table with a _clank_ and just stared down at him. He looked up at her and swallowed. He was at her mercy.

“Frank.”

She swooped down into the booth. Not on the side opposite him, but right next to him on his little bench, wrapping her arms around his neck. He didn’t give a shit that it was a cramped space, that it was hard to get his arms around her. He grabbed her and held tight. _How was this happening? Did he just win the prize? How did he get so lucky?_

Karen leaned back, “You asshole.”

Frank took his hands off her so fast it was like she had burned him.

Karen rolled her eyes. “Why did it take you so long to come here? I was worried about you!”

Frank was disoriented. She was sitting too close- he couldn’t think. He had something he wanted to say… she was annoyed, and scrunching her face at him, and it was cute.

_Focus up!_

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me. “ He said slowly, trying to gather his thoughts. “I thought maybe you’d be mad, or scared, or… you’d think I was a psycho…”

Karen unwrapped herself from him, grabbed her beer, and slid the other one toward him.

“I am a little mad, and a little scared, and while I wouldn’t call you a _psycho_ …” she left that thought hanging, with a slightly teasing smile. They locked eyes. She was smiling to soften the blow, but she was telling him the truth.

What could he say to her? What can make this ok?

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be scared.” His eyes darting from her face, to his hands, to the tabletop. _Shit._ “When I saw that gun pointed at you- it was like a goddamn nightmare. Like everything I’m afraid of, and everything I hate, all at once. I wasn’t thinking- I was just making it stop.”

Karen stared at him. He was exposed, under a spotlight.

“It must be so awful, being so scared all the time. It must have been horrible, seeing a gun pointed at someone you… care for.” Karen’s voice trembled a bit, a tear slipped down her cheek.

Franks reached for her carefully, hoping he was allowed, and wiped her tear with his thumb. “Please don’t cry. Shit.”

“I care about you too, Frank.” Karen said, and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. “The thought of you just attacking someone who has a gun... What you do- even when its for a good cause… it scares the shit out of me. And, I know I don’t have the right to tell you what to do, I mean, I understand why you do it-“

“I’ll stop. I’ll try.” He had not planned on saying that at all, but he was on autopilot. 

“… What?”

“I haven’t done it since that night.” Frank said, feeling incapable of stopping himself from talking. He wanted her to understand, he needed her to know how much she mattered to him. “Karen, that night with you, walking you home… it was…”

“Perfect.” She said, quietly, blushing, but boldly meeting his eyes.

BOOM. His heart pounded. _She feels the same._

“Yeah.” He choked out.

Frank took a long pause; a tongue-tied school kid again.

“Look, I’m a mess. But I guess you already know that. All that shit- fighting, _punishing-_ it was kinda kamikaze, you know? I think it was me wishing that the bullet in my brain had actually killed me. But then I met you.” He looked straight into her eyes- needing her to understand. “You make me… want to live.”

Karen’s eyes were on fire. He thought she might kiss him, but she didn’t. She leaned forward and rested her head in the crook of his neck, melting against him. He wrapped an arm around her. They didn’t say anything for a long time, they just soaked each other in. He rubbed her back. He smelled her hair. It was a dream, such a good dream.

It was Karen who eventually broke the silence, looking up at him with one of her day-breaking smiles that shattered him into a million pieces. Then, as if they were normal people on a normal date- she asked him about his day, about work, about Curtis and David and Sarah. And he was just another guy in New York, out with a pretty girl, trying to make her laugh. _She’s magic. I swear to God…_

They stayed at the bar until after last call and Jess kicked them out with a big hug for Karen, and a dirty look for him. It didn’t even bother him. He winked at her, and she nearly choked on her whiskey.

He carried Karen’s amp to her shitty car. Once the gear was packed they stood there, too close, awkward as teenagers.

That night he'd walked her home, kissing her would have been a no brainer. He’d wanted it for hours and he had a belly full of liquid courage. Tonight though, he still wanted it… but the atmosphere between them felt soft, fragile, precious. Kissing her felt big and bold, and he wasn’t ready.

Frank lowered his head slightly to rest his forehead against hers. She didn’t try for anything more… she could read him so well. He tilted his head and pressed his lips to her cheek. It was a soft thing. It was right.

“Good night, Karen Page.” He said, hushed and low.

 

As Karen drove away, she could see Frank watching her in the rearview mirror. She shivered. She smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out way longer than I ever would have expected, but I couldn't find a place that felt right for a chapter break... so buckle up for a long one:) Thanks so much for reading!

 

_Karen: Good morning, Thanks again for this AMAZING coffee. #lifesaver #myhero_

_(heart eyes, star eyes, drool face)_

 

Karen took a quick picture of herself with her steaming mug of the delicious artisan coffee Frank had given her. She had a big goofy grin on her face… she deleted it. Taking a quick moment, she mussed up her hair and gave a Tyra Banks-worthy smize, angling her phone down just enough so that it would be obvious in the photo that she was only wearing a towel. _Click._  She hesitated for only a few seconds before hitting send.

She smiled to herself, knowing Frank would have no idea how to reply. In the two weeks since they’d reconnected and finally exchanged numbers, Karen had quickly learned that he really was an old fashioned kind of guy. If he wanted to talk to her, he’d call. Their phone conversations were usually short, just locking in plans to see each other. She didn’t mind. It was all a part of that charming bashfulness of his that made her a little weak in the knees. Besides, Frank’s reticence didn’t deter her. Karen was a texter- always popping off quick messages to people the moment they crossed her mind. She frequently pinged him with unimportant things or just to say ‘hi’. Her texts were always full of emojis and gifs and silly stuff. He’d reply, properly and polite, ‘yes’, ’no’, ‘thank you’, ‘good night’. It was so damn endearing.

And, as stilted as communicating on the phone with him could sometimes be, he more than made up for it in person. He was becoming more and more open to her. They spoke easily now, and even when it got hard, he communicated better with his eyes than with his words.

This was the first time she ever sent him a selfie.

She knew that photo: her in a towel, staring straight into the camera with a sizzle in her eyes, was a bit of a tease. But she couldn’t help it. Frank Castle was slowly but surely driving her insane, and if that picture made him feel even a fraction of the swirl that she had going on inside her all the time- then _good_.

It seemed like that horrible night with the mugger had created some sort of barrier around her apartment. It blocked him from coming inside.

Over the last couple of weeks, Frank and Karen had seen each other every few days. Each dinner, each coffee, every walk around town… the time they spent together was _so good._ They told their stories, they laughed and sometimes cried, they drank each other down like they’d been dying of thirst. Frank was always testing new ways of touching her, his fingers finding hers, a hand on her back, or on her hip, or in her hair. Her hair seemed to be a particular fascination to him. He was always finding reasons to run his fingers though it. It made Karen want to purr like a kitten.

They wanted each other, and they both knew it… but he just wasn’t ready yet. It was probably, in the end, a good thing that he hadn’t come upstairs that night after karaoke.

The last few times he’d walked her home, she’d been tipsy. Not on alcohol, but on _him_ , and how it felt when they were together, and how he looked so different when he laughed, and how his thumb massaged her neck when he would brush her hair to one side. But, they’d arrive at her place, and it was like he hit an invisible concrete wall. He’d looked up at her building as if it was Mount Everest, both aspirational and terrifying. Karen’s heart ached for him. She hated seeing that panic in his eyes. She wished she could take it all away; that she could fix everything that had ever gone wrong for him. But, she couldn’t do that. The only thing she _could_ do was take away the panic of the moment at hand. So, she wouldn’t invite him upstairs. She’d smile at him and ask him to call her the next day. He’d look equally relieved and disappointed.

He’d touch her face and kiss her cheek, and make sure that she was safely inside with the door locked behind her before he finally turned and walked away.

Karen would head upstairs to her dark, quiet apartment. She would try, and then fail, to stop thinking about him. She’d end up in bed, wondering if he was at home, thinking of her, gasping and writhing the way she was.

Karen knew that he hadn’t been with anyone since his wife. The invisible wall that kept him trapped on her doorstep was made with heavy bricks of terrible grief, and survivor’s guilt, and ten thousand wonderful memories. Frank was obviously still mourning. No matter how great the connection he and Karen had, she needed to remember that, and give him space. If and when things progressed between her and Frank, it was going to be a very big deal. And not just for Frank, it already meant the world to Karen. They hadn’t even kissed yet, but her feelings for the man ran deep, and were growing by the day. From the moment she’d felt his eye contact, that very first night at the bar, she’d been shaken. The connection between them had always been intense, beautiful despite the pain, and she felt herself surrendering to it. Whatever was happening with them was real, and important, and not to be rushed.

Karen understood. She would wait. He was worth it.

Karen’s phone buzzed with a new message.

_Frank: You are beautiful_.

He was _so_ worth it.

 

 

Frank slid his thumb across his phone, opening up the picture of Karen for probably the hundredth time. He shook his head. _Goddamn._ This photo had severely impeded his productivity at work today.

He’d headed to Anvil early that morning to use the gym, and was just finishing up his workout, when he heard his phone ping. He hoped it was Karen, and he got his wish. Having just stepped off of a rowing machine, Frank’s body was dripping with sweat, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a wave of heat wash over him the instant he saw that picture. She looked fresh from the shower, hair wet and spilling over one bare shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed, they way they would get when she got a little tipsy, or when she caught him staring at her. She was holding a mug of coffee and looking straight at him like… _hell_. At the very bottom of the photo you could see she wasn’t naked, there was a towel wrapped around her, tucked in near her breasts. _HELL_. Was she trying to kill him? Frank felt more sweat run down the back of his neck. He read her little message and his mouth quirked up. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? Her funny texts, always filled with little pictures and faces, those were one thing… but this photo. What could he say? In the heat of this moment, having not seen her in two days, his blood up and pumping from his work out, the only thing he wanted to type back to her was, “I want to fuck you. Right now. Where are you?” … but luckily he had the self control not to type that. He stared at the photo a few moments longer, focusing on her mischievous eyes, quickly sent her the most polite response he could come up with, and hit the showers.

All day long he kept opening up his phone, staring at the picture, missing her, and wanting her, and feeling so damn glad it was Wednesday so he would definitely get to see her tonight. Now, he was here, at the bar, basking in her. She was a goddess up there, under the lights, moving with the music she was making; her voice burning him, and soothing the burn at the same time.

Frank wasn’t tucked away in his corner booth anymore. Now, he sat at the bar, with which ever of Karen’s friends ended up being there. Tonight, it was just Luke and Claire, who he liked. They were good people, and they obviously loved Karen, which was the only criteria Frank needed in order to approve of them. Jess was in a good mood this evening. She nodded when he took a stool at the bar, and didn’t even scowl at him when she brought him his beer. Frank guessed that the friendly reception had more to do with the new cozy energy between her and Malcolm, and less to do with Jess actually warming up to Frank- but he wasn’t about to complain. After greeting Frank, Luke and Claire were soon in their own little word, heads bent low, whispering to each other. Frank was glad. He had a lot on his mind and wasn’t really in the mood for small talk. He wanted to get lost in Karen’s voice- but that seemed unlikely considering _she_ was the reason he had a lot on his mind.

Frank stared up at Pretty Karen with the pretty voice, who understood him so well, who cared about him, who kept making time for him even though he was a half-crazy mess. Pretty Karen who made him laugh, who held his hand, who was waiting for him to get his shit together, so patient and sweet. Frank knew she understood. She understood that he was kind of… paralyzed. Insanely, he wished for a second that he could ask Maria for advice. His heart thudded. It wasn’t panic, it was pain. This pain was at the center of it all. His head knew that Maria would want him to be happy- to _live_ , but his heart… his heart had told him ten thousand times that Maria was the one, she was the _only one_ , that he’d never be unfaithful. His heart wasn’t sure it was possible to say goodbye to Maria, and welcome someone new without ripping itself to shreds.

Every time he left Karen at her doorstep, looking into her big blue eyes, he knew she saw his pain. He knew she didn’t ask him upstairs, not because she didn’t want him to come, but because she wanted to spare him the agony of making the choice.

Frank was grateful to her even though it made him feel like shit.

He’d walk home, worried that maybe this time he’d blown it, maybe this time she’d decide he really did have too much baggage. He’d worry that the next time he called, she’d tell him she was busy, and the next time she’d only text, and the next time she wouldn’t answer at all, and he’d lose her. And everything would be dark again. But before he could completely spiral out, with that gift of hers for reading him so well, he’d have a message on his phone. Something light and funny, letting him know she wasn’t mad. She understood. She was thinking about him.

_Dammit._

She was so good. Perfect. How did he find her? Why the hell was is so hard to accept the fact that he wanted to be with her? Was there an answer? Some fucking sign that he was missing?

Frank could feel himself winding up, getting more and more tense. _Not now._ He needed to get his head on straight before he started buzzing out of his skin.

He wished he could steal Karen away and have her all to himself for a while.

He looked up to the stage and she was smiling out at him. He smiled back and hoped it looked convincing enough. It didn’t. She searched his face, seeing everything, like she always did. She took a breath and started finger picking the opening of ‘Landslide’. Frank had heard ‘Landslide’ a hundred times, but suddenly it was the first time. Karen’s voice was soft and soulful, and he listened hard to the words she sang.

 

_I took my love, I took it down_

_Climbed a mountain and I turned around_

_And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills_

_‘Til the landslide brought me down_

 

Frank focused. She was playing this for him.

 

_Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’_

_Cause I built my life around you_

_But time makes you bolder_

_Children get older_

_I’m getting older too_

 

Every line pierced him like a needle, like a shot, that hurt when it poked, but was the medicine he needed. This song explored and exposed the human heart. How we build up the important things in our lives, so tall they stand like mountains around us. They define everything we know and everything we are- and then, when something changes- its like a landslide. Wreckage. It all falls down, and we're lost and we don’t know _anything_ anymore. We can’t recognize our own reflection. But, we carry on. We keep building our mountains back up, because that’s life. That’s what it is to be human and alive. And there are no answers, and no signs that we’re doing it right, and its scary.

Frank tried to regulate his breathing, but he was beside himself. How did she do it? How did she always know what he needed to hear? She’s an angel, a dream. _I fucking hope she’s not a dream._ _Please._

There was no answer that he was missing. There was no guarantee that he was making the right choice, that he would be ok. He could run away from Karen, or run towards her. Both options were real. Both options were frightening. But he knew what he wanted.

For the rest of Karen’s set, a fire in burned his chest. When she finished, Frank waited his turn to get time with her. It took a while. Too many people wanted to shake her hand or get a picture with her. By the time the herd had dispersed, Frank was almost twitching with impatience. He needed her, alone. Now.

He grabbed her guitar and her amp while she said her goodbyes to the bartenders. If Jess had a sneer or a smile for him at the end of the night, Frank had no idea. He was focused on Karen, and the way she moved, and how she raised her eyebrows when she realized he was already carrying all of her gear. He followed her to her car, trying to pay attention to what she was saying, but it was hard to hear past the pounding of his heartbeat in his own ears. Once her stuff was packed and the trunk was closed, she turned towards Frank. Her pretty mouth smiling. He just stared at her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other… unsure how to start to explain the odyssey he’d been on while she was singing.

“Hey,” Karen said, softly. Stepping a bit closer, touching his arm. “Are you ok? You seem a little… distracted, or far away.”

Frank shook his head. “I’m not far away, I’m here with you.”

“Good.” Karen smiled and leaned in to him, sliding her hands up and around his neck, wrapping him in a hug he hadn’t realized he’d desperately needed until she was there. His arms sprang up around her and he held her close, swaying, like they tended to do automatically whenever they touched.

“Frank… your heart is racing. Are you sure you’re ok?” Karen whispered into his ear.

“Karen-” Frank started, his voice gruff from the lump in his throat. He was glad they were hugging so he didn’t have to look her in the eyes. It would have been too much. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re an angel. A fucking miracle.”

She grew still in his arms. He kept going.

“You mean so much to me. _So much_. I need you to know that. Even though it might seem like- I don’t know. I’m a goddamn mess half the time, but you’re so good to me. I want to be good for you, too. I keep waiting for a fucking break where I don’t feel scared- but I think I’m always gonna feel scared- so what the hell am I waiting for?” He leaned back. He wasn’t saying this right at all. She looked confused. _Come on, focus._

“I want to be with you, Karen.” He brushed her nose with his.

Electricity shivered down his spine as he watched anticipation float up into her eyes. She was waiting for him. Again.

He kissed her. It was the only possible thing in the universe to do in that moment. And it was like rejoicing. She welcomed him with open arms and rose up on her toes and made his fucking head spin. Her mouth, so soft. _Finally._ It was like finally recieving a drink after nearly dying in the desert.

They already had a rhythm; they already had a dance. The small part of his brain that was still capable of thinking noted how well they were in sync, how attuned to each other they were. But the majority of him was too deep, lost in the feel of her beneath his hands, the taste of her on his tongue, the sound of her sighing in his ears. _God_. She lightly raked her nails through his short hair, scratching his skull. He felt it like fireworks in his brain, setting his blood on fire. He kissed her harder, deeper. His hands roamed up and down her back, tangling in her hair, loving the silky feel of it.

“Frank, Frank…” Karen whispered between kisses. Frank pulled back the smallest amount, to look at her, but couldn’t get his hands to stop moving. “I feel the same. You know I do, right?”

Frank groaned and nodded yes, kissing her again, with such force that he was now pressing her up against her car. He pressed harder. She was so soft and warm and good against him.

“Wait, wait…” She said, and he froze, worried he’d taken it too far. She smoothed her hands on his face to set him at ease. “I don’t want you to rush this… I don’t want you to feel scared. Don’t feel like I need this. I want to be with you, too. I can wait, until you’re really ready. Until you feel…” she trailed off, not quite sure how to end that sentence.

Frank’s chest ached, filled up too full. She was perfect, she understood him so well. _How?_

“So damn sweet.” He said, and kissed her lightly. “So damn good.” He kissed her again.

He had to slow himself down, use words.

“I don’t want to wait for something that’s already here. I don’t want to be afraid of something so good.” He touched her face, her hair. She was watching his eyes, hanging on his words.

He didn’t want to be afraid of what he wants. He didn’t want to be afraid of being alive, of _feeling_ alive. He didn’t want to be far from her if she was willing to keep him close. He didn’t fucking want to walk home to his empty apartment if he could be with her instead. He didn’t want to say good night.

She was running her thumb behind his ear, touching his neck, trying to comfort him. So fucking sweet. He forced himself to look into her eyes even as she was blinding him in her light.

“Karen- I… can I come home with you?” He felt ridiculous, a tongue-tied teenager.

Karen searched his face, checking for something, and he wondered what she saw this time. She ran her thumb over his lips before kissing him gently.

“Let’s go.”

 

 

Karen felt like she was floating as she walked around to the driver’s side of her car. _Whoa._ She’d been waiting and wanting to kiss Frank for a long time now, but she never could have predicted how powerful it would be once it actually happened. She was almost shaking, shivering, electrified. He was every bit as intense while kissing her as he was in everything else. She’d never kissed someone so physically… overwhelming. He was huge and he ran hot, a solid wall of hard scorching muscle, pressing in to her, consuming her. _Holy shit._

Frank was already seated when she sank down into the car. His watched her buckle up and pull out. He was staring. She soaked it up. _How the hell is he pulling off looking so confident and so skittish at the same time?_ His eyes watched her boldly, but his fingers were twitching against his knee- a dead giveaway of how nervous he actually was.

She didn’t want him to be nervous.

“I always knew I’d get you riding shotgun in this car. Admit it, she’s a luxury cruise.”

Frank puffed out a laugh, shaking his head and looking away from her finally, out the window.

“I’m just hoping she gets us home in one piece.”

Laughing made him relax. Karen _loved_ getting him to relax.

“Oh, she’ll get us there. She’s solid as a rock.”

“I bet she is.”

A few moments passed in comfortable silence. Frank slowly reached for Karen’s free fingers. He lightly massaged her hand with both of his, staring at it as if it were a riddle. He lifted it up, brushed her fingers with a light kiss. They didn’t talk much for the rest of the ride. They didn’t need to.

When they parked at Karen’s place, she felt a few nervous bubbles in her belly. She tried not to be too obvious about watching his face for signs of distress, or hesitation, but he was so hard to read right now. He insisted on carrying both her guitar and amp, so she walked in front of him and unlocked her door, bracing herself to turn around and see if that invisible wall had blocked him again. But there he was, right behind her, looking shy and a little lost, but _with her_.

His footsteps behind her were loud in her ears as he followed her up the three flights of stairs to her apartment. Now she had bubbles in her stomach for a completely different reason. She was bringing a man in to her home. And she was crazy about him. And anything could happen. They might sit up and talk all night, he might stay over and sleep in his clothes and hold her, or… Or this night might end the way she had imagined so many times, with sweat and sighs and shared breath.

He crossed her threshold little slowly, like the floor might have been booby-trapped. She turned on a lamp with her foot and told him where to set her instruments. Once he set them down, he took some time to look around. He was so big in her apartment, taking up all the space. She opened two beers and watched him walk around, looking at her books and her pictures, checking the view from her windows, seeming to be able to look anywhere but at her.

Karen stepped out of her boots and socks and approached Frank with their beers. He stared down at her bare toes for a while before finally meeting her eyes. He took his beer and tipped it back for a sip without breaking their eye contact. Karen did the same. They stood there, toe to toe, in her living room, watching each other. Karen felt like they were building up so much energy between them that all the light bulbs in her house might suddenly turn on and explode.

Frank was doing that thing. He inhaled and she could see his words piling up in his chest, beating at his ribs from the inside, trying to make their way to his throat where his adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Was it words- or was it something else this time? She couldn’t tell. She just waited. This had to be his move.

When he finally exhaled, it was ragged. The only word he said was her name, and it sounded like a secret. Like a prayer. He reached for her and brought her mouth to his in a way Karen could only describe as beautiful. His kisses came in waves; first testing, brushing the shoreline, then sweeping in a bit more, surrounding her in the tide, then crashing in like a giant breaker and sweeping her out to sea. Karen moaned and could barely believe the sound of her own voice. His hands were so hot, leaving fire wherever he touched her. Her hands were busy too, running across his broad back, making fists in his shirt, sliding up into his hair. He groaned and the sound nearly made her legs buckle.

Frank was walking her backwards. He grabbed her beer from her and set both of their bottles on the kitchen island with a harsh _clank._ He leaned, grabbing her ass, lifting her as if she weighed nothing, and sat her down on the countertop, standing between her legs, crushing her to him. Karen was practically panting, loving the manhandling. Frank trailed heavy, open-mouthed kisses on one side of her neck and then the other. She bent for him and clung to him, her nails digging into his back hard enough to make him shudder. His hands trailing down to her hips, squeezing, then making their way back up underneath her shirt. Those rough hands finally, _finally_ on her bare skin. _Shit._ Karen kissed him harder, arching her back for him. She leaned away, quickly tugging her shirt over her head. Her hair floated back down around her face and Frank froze. His eyes didn’t seem to know where to land, flickering from her eyes, to her stomach, to her swollen lips, to her hair all wild and messy now, to her breasts in her pretty teal bra. He stared and he swallowed and his hands didn’t move an inch. The moment stretched.

Karen was a fairly confident woman, but there was only so much silent staring she could take. If he didn’t say something soon, she was going implode.

“Frank… is this ok?”

His eyes snapped up to hers and he nodded rapidly. She searched his face, skeptical.

“Sorry.” His shook his head to kick start his brain, to make it work properly. “Shit.”

He was so flustered. Karen melted. _Oh, Frank. Sometimes words are hard, huh?_

She smiled at him, gave him a little peck on the chin. He smiled back, laughing at himself. God, she loved making him laugh. His whole body changed, he relaxed, leaned in, breathed deep. She peppered him with slow, encouraging, kisses, on his neck, his nose, his brow, his cheek. She lightly licked and then bit his earlobe, which appeared to be some sort of detonator.

The sound that ripped out of this throat was more machine than man, and he was everywhere at once. Both hands in her hair, then running down her back, then over her thighs, around her waist, toying for the briefest moment with the button of her jeans, and finally up to cup her breasts and she moaned into his mouth. He reached around her, and with practiced ease, unclasped her bra, and dragged it down her arms, tossing it away. He looked down at her, breathing heavy. Karen felt a little boost from the look of pure desire on his face. She felt hot, wanted. And then his hands and mouth were on her, kissing and squeezing her. His tongue flicked her nipples, his teeth bit. She let it overwhelm her, happy to be dragged into his undertow. When Frank surfaced and looked up at her, his pupils were blown out, lips pouty and swollen. He still didn’t seem to have any words, but his eyes said everything. He wanted her. Bad. Right now. Karen bit her lip and nodded. Sometimes words were too much for her, too.

Frank captured her mouth again as his hands gripped her ass. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips as he lifted her up, walking them somewhere. _Oh._ She could feel him between her legs, so hard. It made her ache. She ground down onto him and he tore his mouth from hers in a groan. She thought she heard him whisper ‘goddamn’, but it was hard to hear anything over the sound of her own pounding pulse.

Frank reached her couch and laid her down. Looming over her, he stared, he ate her up with his eyes and she felt like she was glowing. She was so keyed up, she felt like she might come just from his heated eyes on her skin. He let his hips sink down onto hers, they both exhaled. He ground down into her and Karen whined with a voice that would have embarrassed her if she had any ability to think. _Shit. More skin. Now._

Her hands scrabbled at him, running over his chest and up his back, taking his shirt with them. He sat back to help her get it over his head, and the sight of him hit Karen like a lit match on gasoline. _Holy…_ his body was a sculpture, a fucking work of art. Hard muscles bunching and stretching with his breath, scars that she’d have to learn about later, but right now she just wanted to lick and taste. She couldn’t even wait for him to lower himself back down to her. She sat up and clung to his body. The way he was kneeling over her put her right at eye level with his pecs, which was perfect. She latched on to him, kissing his skin, grazing her teeth over the curves of his chest, running her hands across his abs. She feasted on him until he couldn’t take it anymore. He fisted a hand back into her hair and brought her lips to his.

When he lowered them both back down, Karen could have purred. Pressed against him, skin to skin, it was euphoric. His heat was sinking into her, sliding against her. She never wanted this to end. This man… she wanted him, she needed him, she lov-

All thoughts vaporized. Frank’s hands were unbuttoning her jeans, dragging them and her panties in one motion down her legs. She kicked them off her ankles. Just like that, she was naked, spread out in front of him; he was still in his jeans, kneeling between her thighs, staring down at her like she was the source of life itself. Her cheeks were flushed, but from excitement, not self-consciousness. It was impossible to feel self-conscious when the effect she had on him was so obvious, when his eyes were screaming that this moment blowing his mind.

His hands ran the length of her legs, feather light. He breathed her name.

“Karen.”

 

 

Frank didn’t really have anything to say, her name just fell from his mouth. Maybe that was because his brain seemed to have broken the moment they kissed. Or maybe it was because he was feeling _so much_ , and the only word that summarized everything good and beautiful and right in the world was simply her name. _Karen._

God, she was beautiful; naked, and soft, and looking up at him, pleading- like she needed him. He dove, pressing into her. She was delicious- he couldn’t get enough. Karen Page, underneath him, skin on skin- it was surreal. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. She was bending under his touch, sighing into his kisses, sweat beginning to glisten on her skin from their shared heat and strain.

His pulse was pounding. It was a little overwhelming. He watched her face as he let one hand drift from her breast, lower and lower until it dipped between her thighs. _Fuck,_ she was so wet. On fire. All for him. Karen moaned and it was as beautiful as her singing, even more so. He began circling his fingers and she writhed under him. _God, Karen. Yes. Move like that. Dance like that._

Frank’s heart was a war drum now. As immersed in this moment as he was, wrapped up in Karen, gladly drowning in the pleasure of giving her pleasure, there was a faint rumbling in the back of his mind. Thunder in the distance. It was easy to ignore at first, with his hands on Karen, his mouth crushed to hers, sharing her breath. But soon the pounding of his heart turned to smashing. He sat up, trying to calm down, get it under control. Karen, not realizing what was happening with him, followed him up, maneuvered him into a sitting position, and straddled him. She wrapped both hands around his head and kissed him, he clung to her like a lifeline, hoping she could save him somehow. The rumbling in the distance of his mind was becoming a ringing in his ears. _Shit._ He couldn’t think. Karen was on his lap, moving over him _so good_ \- and suddenly he saw brown hair instead of blonde, brown eyes instead of blue. Maria. _Fuck._ Frank blinked. He shuddered. _FUCK._

The next thing he was fully aware of was gulping down air and opening eyes that had been squeezed shut. Karen was off of his lap, but still kneeling next to him on the couch. Her face was worried. She was saying something. His name. She was saying his name and asking him if he was ok, hands hovering over him like she wasn’t sure if she should touch him. And like a punch in the face- Frank was slammed back into reality.

Shit. _Shit. SHIT_.

He and Karen had been- after all this time, it was finally happening- and he had a panic attack. He’d thought of Maria, been stabbed with guilt and pain, and freaked out.

He didn’t know what to say. He was shaking.

He was so trapped in his head, he barely registered Karen moving to grab the blanket that had been laying across the back of the couch, and wrapping it around him. She rubbed her hands up and down his arms.

When he was finally able to look up at her, there were tears in her eyes. It was a kick in the ribs. _FUCK._ She was crying. He made her cry. He sat there like a helpless idiot, letting her console him, while she was beautiful and naked and _crying_. His skin crawled.

“Fuck, Karen. I’m so sorry.”

She just nodded at him, looking relieved that he’d finally said something.

He was humiliated. He wanted to jump out the window. He couldn’t believe how bad he’d fucked this up. How could he make this right? How could he explain this to her when he barely understood it himself?

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, stupidly.

“No, _I’m_ sorry. I shouldn’t have rushed you- I shouldn’t have-“

“NO.” Frank said, and he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into his lap, wrapping her up in the blanket with him.

“Please, no. Please don’t regret this.” He whispered against her hair.

She was a little stiff in his arms and when he heard her sniffle, he wanted to smash his head into the wall. He’d fucking blown it. She was so sweet and perfect, and he’d lost his shit and made her feel like she’d done something wrong. _Fucking Asshole._

“Are you ok?” She asked, her voice small.

“I don’t know.” He answered like a moron.

“It’s ok. It’s ok that you don’t know. You don’t have to have it figured out.”

Still comforting him. How did she do it? _Why_ did she do it? She should slap him in the face, order him to leave, never talk to him again. Instead, she sat with him, wrapping her arms as tightly around him as his were around her. He held her against him, her skin soothing him. His mind was clearing. He needed to make this right.

“I’m batshit. I don’t know why you put up with it.” He said, gruff. “There hasn’t been anyone- since Maria. I panicked. I’m sorry.”

“Its ok.” She breathed, laying her head on his shoulder. He rested his cheek on her forehead.

“I think its hard to let myself feel good… to feel the way I feel with you- because then its like I’m not remembering her, or I didn’t love her enough… or if she knew how I felt, it would hurt her…” Frank’s voice was dreadful, like he was confessing his sins.

Karen just held him tighter.

“I don’t know what to do.” His voice sounded weak in his own ears.

“Its ok. It really is.” She whispered into his neck. “You don’t have to have all the answers.”

Karen leaned back so she could look at him. He met her gaze looking lost.

“You lost your wife. It’s terrible and tragic and unfair. There’s no “right” way to just keep on living after something like that.” She said softly, both of their eyes filling with tears. “But you’re alive, Frank. You _are_. You’re going to have bad days and good days. You’re going to feel grief and joy, anger and love, and everything in between. You can’t get this wrong. You don’t have to _do_ anything. Just let yourself live.”

The gears of Frank’s mind were grinding, trying to turn over, but stuck on some nagging obstruction. “I wish there were directions. I wish I could chose a plan, follow the steps, fix it.”

Karen nodded, understanding.

“We don’t get to pick the things that fix us, Frank. Make us whole.” She looked him straight in the eye. “Your moment of clarity might come from the strangest of places.”

She kissed him on the cheek and rested her head back down on his shoulder. Long minutes passed and they just held each other. Frank pondered everything she said, still soaking in the therapy of her skin on his. Could it really be that simple? Just let himself live?

She stirred and moved to get up from his lap. He didn’t want her to go, but let her slip through his arms. He was instantly cold. He tracked her movements across the room. As hot and hard as he had been mere minutes ago, his panic attack had had quite a deflating effect on him. Nonetheless, his cock stirred at the sight of her, naked and graceful, walking from the couch to her kitchen to fill a glass with water. She took a long drink, then refilled the glass and turned back toward him. He was staring and she let him. His eyes roved everywhere as she returned to him, her swaying hips, her long legs, her breasts. When she got back to the couch, Karen handed him the glass of water. He hadn’t realized how much he needed it until she gave it to him, he closed his eyes and savored the drink.

By the time he blinked them back open, Karen had her guitar and was crossing her legs to sit on the coffee table in front of the couch where he sat, still wrapped in that blanket. Frank’s heart thudded. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to sing for him after all of his bullshit tonight? Another get-out-of-jail-free card?

The answer was yes. She was already picking away at a melody he was all too familiar with. She was going to sing ‘If I Needed You’. The song she played on the first night he ever saw her. A love song. Maria’s favorite. Of course, Karen could have no idea. _How the hell?_ Last time he’d heard her play this, he’d nearly ran from the bar, away from the pain of it. This time though… She had chosen this song at random, to sooth and calm him down, and - he couldn’t believe it - it was working. He listened to the melody he’d heard Maria hum a thousand times, but with Karen’s lovely voice. 

Frank’s eyes were wide. So often, Karen’s voice took him away, helped him escape. But this time, it sharpened his reality. He was right here. Right now. Every cell attuned to the woman sitting across from him. Her voice called to him, begged him to listen, to learn.

 

In the night forlorn,

The morning’s born

And morning shines with the light of love

You will miss sunrise

If you close your eyes

And that would break my heart in two

 

_Karen_.

She did it again. Exactly what he needed to hear. She was a prophet, a priestess.

He’d been living in a long night, and she had come to him like a sunrise. Like daybreak. This song was about _him and Karen_ … but it was also Maria’s. And somehow, those two things didn’t cancel each other out.

Somehow, he was the both world’s unluckiest and luckiest man. He was cursed and blessed. His everything had been ripped away from him, but somehow… he got Karen. Pretty Karen with the pretty voice, who forgave him again and again, who seemed to understand him better than he understood himself, who filled his world with light. Pretty Karen, who had survived her own tragedies, who was so much stronger than him, who made him laugh and feel alive. After it all, _despite_ it all- he got to have her. And that was good. It was undeniably, irrefutably good.

_Karen._

Frank’s heart rate picked up, but not in a way that made him scared. This time, it made him feel brave- alive. His breath became heavy. Most of her gorgeous body was hidden behind her guitar, but her crossed bare legs looked a mile long. In the dim light cast from the single lamp across the room, she glowed, luminescent. She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. She was good and kind and he loved her.

BOOM. His heart was pounding now. It was obvious. He loved her. He loved her so much. He needed to show her. Now.

Karen finished the song that had rocked Frank to his soul with a subtle smile. She had no idea she’d just changed his life. No idea of the gift she’d given him, how she blessed him.

The look on his face must have given her some sort of clue. She froze. Frank couldn’t stay away from her for one more goddamn second. He slid off the couch, to his knees on the floor and reached for her guitar, gently setting it aside. Karen’s eyes were huge, not knowing what to expect, but suddenly naked again in front of him, blushing from her chest all the way up to her ears. Frank stood on his knees, nose to nose with her, slowly raising his hands to caress her face, her hair, watching her trying to figure him out.

“Karen. Thank you.” He kissed her softly. She responded, but hesitantly. “Thank you.” He kissed her again.

Karen raised her hands to his wrists, leaning back, happy that he seemed to be feeling better, but wary of moving too fast. He couldn’t just show her, he had to tell her, too.

“You were right, Karen. My moment of clarity came from the strangest of places. It’s you.” Frank’s belly was on fire, his eyes bore into hers, he needed her to understand. “You came into my life like a morning, all light, and beautiful, and new. You dug me up out of a grave.”

Karen’s hands tightened their grip on his arms, her big blue eyes were swimming.

Frank leaned closer, brushing her nose with his, whispering.

“I don’t need directions, or more time, I just need you.” He held her face in both hands, letting her see straight into his soul. “I love you, Karen.”

She blinked and her tears fell. He swiped them with his thumb.

“…what?”

“I love you.” Frank said, louder this time. “I know I probably seem genuinely out of my skull, and maybe I am, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. I think you're the best thing that ever happened to me. And I don’t know why you even give me the time of day… but you mean everything to me.”

Karen choked a little on a sob, “You mean everything to me, too. _Everything_.”

They met each other in a kiss, soft and powerful. And it couldn’t stay soft for long. Frank's hands slid down to Karen’s legs, opening her knees so he could pull her flush against him, still knelt on the floor between her legs. With her sitting on the coffee table, she was slightly taller than him, and it was perfect. He’d never clung to someone so desperately in his life, never pressed so close. Everywhere she touched him left and ache so damn good. He needed to touch her everywhere, taste her everywhere. She let out a little hiss when his lips closed over a nipple, and the sound sent electricity shooting though his skin, blood rushing to his cock. _Hell._ He darted back up to kiss her again and his hand was drawn like a magnet, back down between her thighs. She was still so wet, so hot for him. He groaned, watching her mouth fall open. She was gripping his biceps, eyes closed, losing herself in the pleasure he was giving her. Frank sunk a finger into her core and curled it, watching, enthralled as her body swayed and rolled for him. _Yes. Feel it. Keep moving like that._

Frank was drunk on it. This gorgeous creature, the woman he loved, gasping for him. He needed more. He needed to see her fall apart. He trailed his kisses lower and lower until he reached her stomach, her thighs. The scent of her. _Fuck._

“Oh, god- Frank…” she keened, as he pressed her thighs further apart, exposing all of her to him. _Yes._

Frank locked eyes with her, not breaking the gaze as he slowly placed his first kiss at her center. She was already disheveled, her panting drove him on. He licked at her, kissed and sucked, and when her head finally tipped back in surrender, he was unleashed. He ate her like he was starving. Increasing his speed and his pressure, hell bent on driving her insane. _Delicious. Fucking delicious._ Frank had always loved this, having his face buried between a woman’s thighs. Feeling so clearly what he did to her. Giving her everything she wanted. It drove him fucking crazy. He was groaning along with her, achingly hard in his jeans, every cell of his body turned on and revved up. She was getting close, those beautiful little sounds she was making were getting higher and higher pitched. Her face was a portrait of strain and pleasure. Frank added another finger inside her, curling and pumping and swirling. She was so tight. So slick. His kept his eyes on her face, not wanting to miss a thing. So close. _Come on, Sweetheart._ And she did, gasping and shaking and glorious. He nipped at her stomach and thighs as his fingers slowed, he watched her come down from her high. She was breathtaking in her satisfaction. Karen was spread, glistening and wrecked by him. It stroked a part of his ego that hadn’t been touched in years. He felt invincible.

The throbbing in his groin becoming impossible to ignore, he reached down, rubbing himself through his jeans because he couldn’t help it. Karen opened her eyes in that exact moment and her gaze riveted to his hands. She made a noise like she’d taken a bite of the most delicious food she’d ever tasted, and she sank to her knees on the floor with him. 

“Yes, Frank.” She gasped, and kissed him.

His name on her lips short circuiting his brain for a second as her hands joined his at the zip of this jeans and began tearing at his clothes. She didn’t need to spell it out for him. He sat back and ripped off his boots and jeans while she leaned over, grabbing something from her purse by the end of the couch. She pressed the small foil square of a condom into his palm. _Thank god she’s thinking clearly._ It had been so long for him- it hadn’t crossed his mind _._ He ripped the wrapping with his teeth and rolled it over himself. Karen stared at his hands, her chest heaving. Frank noted it- watching him handle himself- it effected her. He toyed with her for a minute, stroking himself up and down, watching her stare at him, squirming. It lit him up. He felt like he could breath fire.

“ _Frank.”_ She whined, and finally grabbed for him. Kissing him hard, possessively and dragging him down on top of her on the floor. They were inches away from the couch. They probably could have gotten up and stumbled their way to her bedroom. But no, this was happening. Right here, right now, on the floor. And it was perfect, and it was right, and it was so fucking hot he was going to lose it.

She pulled him closer and closer until he was right at her entrance. She pinned him with a look that clutched at his heart.

“I need you. I’ve wanted you for so long.” She sighed.

“So long,” He whispered back.

He entered her slowly, inch by inch, eyes locked, mouths open, sharing air. Frank groaned when he bottomed out in her, his entire world focused on how she clenched around him and the tenderness in her eyes. He had already been convinced that she fit him perfectly in every way and now he knew for sure.

“I love you.” He said again, amazed at how easy those words were to say.

She smiled, one of her full force blinding smiles that shattered him into a million dazed pieces. That smile, while he was inside her- it was a miracle.

“I love _you_ , Frank. I love _you_.” She said back, and it was almost a song, her voice so beautiful saying those words to him. He felt a blanket of warmth settle over him. He had already known. She’d already made that abundantly clear. _Yes. YES._

He held her eyes and began to move, slowly at first, loving the feel of her around him. The way she surrendered and responded to him. The way she clung and bent for him. It was amazing. _She_ was amazing.

“Yes, Karen. Feel so good,” he rumbled. She sighed dug her nails into his shoulders, making him shudder and thrust a bit harder. She gasped, so pretty.

“You like that?” He grunted at her, fevered at her responses, their connection.

She nodded rapidly.

“Tell me,” He breathed, “Tell me what you want.”

She keened. “You. More.” He thrust a little faster, a little harder. “Yes, Frank. Please, please, _please_.”

She was right there with him. Meeting his every movement. Every word from her mouth making him feel hotter and hotter. She was so fucking perfect. So in sync with him at every turn. Her hands on him, her sweet kisses, her pleading with him for more- she was everything. Everything.

Frank could feel himself getting close to the edge, but he needed to wreck her one more time, he needed to watch it happen and feel it from inside. He was pounding in to her. They would both have bruises tomorrow but he knew neither of them gave a fuck. He palmed the back of her head to protect it from banging on the floor and he came at her with everything he had. They were both sweating and panting.

“Come for me, Karen.” He grunted, out. And somehow despite everything they were doing, she was able to blush a bit more. “Yeah, Sweetheart. I want to see it. Come on, come for me. ”

Karen started to lose her rhythm, to stiffen and gasp. Frank exhausted himself, giving her more speed, more pressure, desperate to give her what she needed. She arched up and up and- _Fuck yes_. She snapped. Trembling in his arms clenching around him so tight he could barely move inside her. _Beautiful._ Looking up at him like he’d just saved her life. It was too much, too good. Frank felt the coil deep inside him start to fray. He thrust again, again, _again-_ and came with a gasp and a wave of exhilaration.

They lay there for a few moments; spent, tingling in the afterglow. When he could finally raise his head to look at her they both had matching looks of exhausted satisfaction on their faces. They smiled at each other, not needing words. Exchanging light touches and kisses. Karen lifted up her elbow to show Frank a nice red bump she must have gotten during their exertions. They both laughed softly and Frank kissed it to make it better.

“Frank,” Karen said, rubbing her thumb over his lips lightly, “Take me to bed.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man! I've never been so side swiped by a story in my life. My plans have been a moot point. This story is doing what it wants. I'm enjoying writing it while feeling confounded at the same time. I've never written such long chapters and honestly, I feel like I'm in it too deep to know if I'm getting the pacing right... any comment or critique about that would be super appreciated. I'd love to hear thoughts and advice- even if you think something didn't work- I'd love to know it:) Thanks again for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The end.  
> This story always had a mind of its own and I'm really happy with the journey I went on to get it out. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did:)

She spotted him before he saw her. 

Karen grinned to herself and slowed down a bit, enjoying the upper hand. He almost always snuck up on her. She never saw him coming, never got a moment to catch him unaware, to watch him just _ be  _ Frank Castle on the sidewalk. He was leaning against the brick wall of the coffee shop, hood up, shoulders hunched, looking down at his boots. The grumpy set of his face made Karen’s grin grow even wider.  _ Such a tough guy. _

Karen sped up again.

In the few weeks that had melted away since they’d gotten together, said they loved each other, rocked each other to their very souls, they’d hardly spent any nights apart. There was last night, and the one time Frank had an overnight job with Anvil, but other than that, he’d pretty much been living at her place. Karen loved it. She felt awakened. Having someone to come home to, someone to hold and care for, who held and cared for her right back.

Karen had long gotten used to the void that lived inside her since she lost her family. She didn’t deny its existence, but she tried not to climb down inside it too often. She worked around it, occasionally peering down into the darkness, but spending most of her time elsewhere, leaning into the light. Frank was bringing everything to life inside her. It was like somehow the abyss got smaller, less scary. Like he was standing there, right on the ledge with her, unafraid.

They understood each other. _ God _ , she loved him. 

She was just across the street, waiting for a red light to turn green, when he finally looked up. His eyes connected with hers and she felt that familiar flip in her belly. He stood up straight, like a soldier. Karen knew she had a big goofy smile on her face, and for a moment, wished she had the self control to give him a sexy, smoldering look. To walk slowly and deliberately, make him watch and wait for her. But his lips tipped up to the side, and he looked away quickly with that trademark bashfulness of his, and Karen had no self control at all. When the light turned green she was practically skipping to him.

“Hey.” He rumbled, as he pulled her in close. His voice was low and scratchy. Probably the first word he’d spoken today. 

Frank leaned back, to run his thumb along her jaw slowly before angling her face upward for a kiss. Karen’s skin tingled. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to this man, to the effect he had on her.  _ Twitterpated… probably giant hearts where my eyes used to be... _

When their lips parted she stayed close, beaming at him, feeling her skin grow warm as he scanned her from her hair to her heels and back up again.

“You look pretty.” 

Karen hadn’t thought her smile could get any goofier, but she was sure it did. 

Frank was generous with compliments. He often told her she was beautiful. Gorgeous. Even  _ fucking  _ gorgeous- just yesterday as he lay on his back, tangled up in her sheets, while she writhed on top of him slowly, sensually, with early morning laziness. He’d repeated that sentiment over and over until there were no more words. 

Karen paid attention. He only called her “pretty” when she was dressed up for work, and there would be a distinct heat in his eyes. Frank liked it when she was dressed all prim and proper. He never said anything, but she could tell. 

Today she was wrapped in a black pencil skirt, cream blouse, and heels. Her hair was up in its most severe knot. He couldn’t stop staring. Those hands of his that normally found every reason to touch her hair- to wind it around his fingers, to clench it in his fist- wouldn’t dare touch her updo.  Usually when things started to heat up between them, it was like he couldn’t get her naked fast enough. Karen loved his urgency, his manhandling. But when she came home in a little skirt and blouse set, he took his time. He made a feast over every button, every slide of fabric against her skin. One time he didn’t even bother undressing her, he just hiked her skirt up and laid her across her kitchen table. Karen suppressed a warm shiver at the memory. He’d been particularly growly that night. She smiled to herself. If she was reading him right, and she usually did, Frank had a bit of a ‘sexy secretary’ kink. She’d have to make sure to have some fun with that some time.

They were about to step into the coffee shop when Frank’s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket with his free hand, smirking at the name on the screen, “Hey Asshole.”

Karen grinned. She knew well enough by now that Frank had to be talking to David. She gave Frank’s hand a squeeze to let him know she’d go get their coffees. She ordered his black, hers with cream, and waited for their drinks to be made while Frank made eyes at her through the front window.

Karen arrived back at his side just in time to hear him grumble, “Alright, alright- it’s at my place…. I’ll bring it… Soon. After lunch with my girl.” Karen wanted to kiss that smirk off his face. “Yea…. Later.”

Karen handed Frank his coffee as he put his phone away.

“How’s David?”

Frank shook his head, but he was smiling fondly. They really bickered like brothers. “Oh, he’s always worked up about something. He needs one of the hard drives I have at my place. I’ll get it to him later.”

“Well, if it’s at your place, why don’t we just pop in and grab it now? Then you can drop it at Anvil after lunch?” 

“Nah- I’ll do it later. It’s no big deal.” He shrugged his big shoulders and tilted his head to the side, silently saying _ Lets go _ .

“But we’re so close to your place- and it’ll be easy to head to Anvil straight after lunch. Why don’t we just-”

Frank started shaking his head again, but Karen wasn’t having it. She planted her feet on the ground and her hand on her hip. 

“Frank, you know I’m going to see your apartment  _ sometime, _ right?”

He squinted at her, trying to get around this, to out flank her somehow. She knew to tread lightly. He was so open with her now, but he still had a few soft spots. A few wounds he’d rather lick in private than let her help. 

“I know you hate your place, I get it. But, I want to see your home-”

“It’s not.” He interrupted. “It’s not my home.” 

Confused, Karen waited. She knew he’d explain more if she gave him a moment to gather his thoughts. He always did. He was looking down at his boots, mustering his words in his chest, rallying the troops.

“The thing is, the apartment is a shithole. I hated it from the moment I saw it, but back then- I hated  _ everything _ … so it kind of fit.” 

Frank wouldn’t look at her. He was staring off in the distance now, looking more lost than she’d seen him in a while. She wanted to reach out and touch him, comfort him, but she knew if she did, it might break his train thought, and she really wanted to hear him out. 

“And now- with you, things are so much better. _ I’m _ better. And that place is unbearable. Its like this big glaring sign of how fucked up I’ve been. You-” He finally look at her, his eyes as puppy dog as she’d ever seen them “You wouldn’t want to be with a guy who lives like that. Who’s that fucked up.” 

Karen actually scoffed at that. 

“How can you possibly think that? After everything we’ve been through?” She stepped right up to him, right up to his face. “I love you, Frank. And I’ve told you before… I ain’t scared’a you.”

She took his hand, stroking it with her thumb. His eyes locked on to their entwined fingers. 

“Let me in.” She whispered.

It was a plea, not just to be physically let in to his house, but for him to let her into this part of his past, his pain.

He hesitated a moment more, but finally nodded stiffly and turned them on the sidewalk, leading her to his place. Karen squeezed his hand, grateful and encouraging. He smiled back at her with what she knew he hoped was nonchalance. 

It was a short walk to his place. He held her hand a little too tight the entire time, grasping at a lifeline. Karen kept quiet once it was clear which building Frank was leading them to. She took it all in, the seedy complex, the crumbling stairs. When he finally stopped at the last door at the end of a dark hallway Karen could feel tension spiking off of him. 

He walked in first and held the door for her as she stepped inside. 

_ Oh, Frank. _

This was a desolate place. Karen kept her face neutral as she looked around, knowing Frank was watching her, reading her silence and expression. Worried. 

It was a small studio. Frank’s bed, neatly made, with one limp pillow and one thin blanket, against the far wall. One battered door that must have led to a bathroom. Near the door was a small folding table and one chair that was definitely meant to be outdoor patio furniture. She took a few more steps in and saw an ancient looking fridge. No stove. 

Karen slowly spun in the center of the room taking it all in. Stained ceilings, cracked floors. A few fist height dents in the drywall. The dereliction of this place, the hopelessness, the loneliness; how had he lived like this for over two years? 

Frank had closed the front door and was now leaning against it, waiting for her reaction. He looked smaller somehow. Shrunken. Exposed and… embarrassed?  _ No _ . Karen wasn’t having that. That was not the point of her coming here.

“Just as neat and tidy as I’d expect, Marine.” 

Frank huffed out a laugh and shook his head, the tension he’d been holding in breaking out like through a busted valve. Karen held out her hands to him and he crossed the room in quick steps, needing to get his arms around her, needing to soak up some of her strength. She held him tight. They swayed. 

“Thank you for bringing me here.” Karen whispered, her lips brushing his ear. Frank sunk in to her even more, held her tighter. “This is no good. You shouldn’t stay here anymore.”

She could feel Frank nodding into her shoulder.

“I know. I hate this place. Always did.” His voice was soft, rumbling against her belly. “I got this place right… after.”

Karen eyes smarted. She made fists in his hoodie.

“After everything, I never went back to our apartment. Couldn’t. I got out of the hospital, this might sound crazy, but being around nice things, good things, was… torture. So, I found this place, and was a shithole, but it didn’t make me feel any worse that I already felt and-  I’ve been here ever since.”

Frank lifted his head enough so he could see her face and clicked his tongue, looking pained at the sight of her tears.

“Shit. Please don’t cry.” His thumbs swiped at the trails on her cheeks. “I never wanted you to see this fucking place. I’m sorry- “

Karen stilled his hands. 

“Frank, I’ve already seen it.” 

Frank furrowed his brow, not understanding. 

“This place, this lonely, sad place... this was you. When we first met.”

He froze.

“This is how you were. This is how you felt. But not anymore.” She smiled at him, and now it was  her thumbs brushing tears off of  his cheeks. “You don’t belong here anymore.” 

Frank set and reset his jaw, his eyes fixed on some far off point. He nodded, once, to himself. 

“Yeah. You’re right about that. I don’t belong here anymore.” Frank’s eyes locked on Karen’s. They burned her with white heat of truth. “And that’s because of you.”

_ “Us.” _ She said, wanting him to understand that he’d saved her, too. She hadn’t known how desperate she’d been for resonation, for partnership, for love, until she’d found it in Frank. She was renewed, alive- just like he was. _ You know that, right? You must know. _

She kissed him, lightly. Wanting to reassure him and let him know she was right here in this moment with him. He leaned in to deepen the kiss, but she pulled back. First things first. 

“I’m serious about this, Frank. I don’t want you staying here any more.” 

Frank frowned at her nodding. He understood and agreed. What more did she want?

Karen reached into the zipper pocket of the bag looped around her shoulder, and pulled out a set of keys. Frank’s eyes went so comically wide, she almost laughed. 

“I’d wanted to give these to you, just to make it easier when you came over. But now…, “  _ Here goes nothing… _  “Ok- I know its really soon- but I want you to move in with me.” she said, in one  breath, not giving herself a chance to chicken out. 

Frank shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyeing the keys like they might come to life and bite him. She could see his words piling up in his chest like they still did sometimes. Grappling to get up his throat, past his lips. But when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a long breath. He looked down at his boots, shaking his head slowly.  _ Shit- you freaked him out!  _ Karen was internally flailing- wishing she could rewind this entire morning and start over at the coffee shop. 

But then he tipped his head and peeked up at her from under his eyebrows. His eyes were glittering. He was smiling. 

“Hell yeah.” 

And he kissed her like a storybook hero. Karen was so relieved she felt like she floated an inch or two above the ground. 

“Of course I want to move in with you. I want to be with you…  _ all the time _ . Last night- without you- was shit. Not just because I had to come back here. Because I don’t wanna spend nights without you. Ever.” 

“Good.” Karen breathed, nudging his nose with hers. “Me either.”

Karen had a moment where she knew what was about to happen before he moved, and then he was on her. Kissing her like he was trying to drown in her, slipping her bag off of her shoulder where it, and his new set of keys plunked onto the ground. His hands ran over her back. He palmed her ass and groaned into her mouth. He avoided her hair though, not wanting to muss it up. An idea sparked  in Karen’s brain, and just the thought of it made her so hot she moaned into Frank’s kiss. She brought her hand to his chest and broke away, eyes glinting. This was going to be fun.

“So, its your last day in this apartment.” She said, taking a moment to glance around the dingy  room. One hand was still on his chest to maintain distance, while the other had her fingernails grazing across the back of his skull in a way that always made him putty in her hands. “I think it’s only right that you have one…  _ good  _ memory of this place. Don’t you think?” 

Frank quickly nodded and made to bring her over to his bed, but she stopped him. Palm flat on his chest. Eyebrow raised, imperious. 

“Frank, sit.” She tipped her head toward the chair behind him. 

He didn’t move; a big, confused, brick wall of man. 

Karen smirked, channeling the spirit of every ‘sexy teacher’ fantasy in the universe, and said softly, but with steel in her voice. “Sit down, Frank.”

He sat slowly, with that nearly invisible smile on his face. His eyes bored into her, head swaying slightly. They’d never done this, never played any sort of power games with each other.  But the heat in his gaze said he was up for it. The way he leaned back in the chair, spreading his knees wide like a king on his throne, said he thought he was going to win. Silly man, had no idea that she had him all figured out.

Karen turned and took a few steps away from him swaying her hips, peeking around over her shoulder just in time to catch him staring at her ass. She spun to face him, hands on her hips, and just let him look at her for a moment; the hair, the heels, the skirt and blouse set, they wiped the smirk off his face. He looked hungry now.

Staring him straight in the eye, her hands drifted up to the top button of her blouse, right at her neck, and slid the button through. She moved on to the next one, slowly, making a feast out of it, the way he would.

Frank’s nose twitched. 

Karen paused her work on her own buttons. “Take off your shirt.”

Frank froze for a second before unzipping his hoodie, tearing it off, and tossing it to the floor. He only wore a tank top underneath.  _ Mmmmm…  _

“And that.” She sighed, her hands starting on yet another button. 

Frank had it over his head and on the floor in one motion.  _ Good lord _ , he was beautiful. Taut skin, crisscrossed with scars, iron muscles bunching and flexing with his breath as he watched her, waiting for her next move.  

Karen left her bottom few buttons in tact, didn’t even untuck her blouse from her skirt. She just let it billow open so Frank could get an eyeful of her cleavage on display in her lacy cream bra. An innocent look in comparison to how sinful she felt right now. She cocked her head to the side while her hands floated up to her breasts, touching and tracing, feather light.

Frank’s jaw dropped slightly has his eyes tracked the motion. She had his complete attention. A bomb might have gone off in the next room and he wouldn’t have noticed. 

Karen took one slow step, and then another, and then she was standing between his knees. Frank growled and reached for her hips to bring her to his lap, but she batted his hands away lightly. He kissed her stomach quickly and tried to grab her again. Again, she batted him away. He looked up at her, heated and curious, until she started lowering herself to her knees. 

“Oh fuck.” He breathed, chest already heaving in anticipation of what he now knew was coming. 

Karen reveled in his reaction. She knew he loved this, but she hadn’t had many opportunities to do this with him. Usually, he took the lead in the bedroom, and he never asked for this. But Karen could read him. His hesitancy to initiate was a sign of how much he craved it, how it drove him crazy.  _ Buckle up, Frank.  _

Karen ran her hands slowly over his thighs, the denim of his jeans warming under her palms. 

“This afternoon, I want you to come back here and pack up anything you need, and then bring it over to my place.  _ Our place _ .” Her voice was low and mellow. She never broke eye contact with him as she reached up and unbuttoned his jeans, pulled down the zip. “And while you’re packing up, I don’t want you to think about all of the sad, lonely nights you’ve spent here… I want you to think about  _ this _ .”

She pulled on his jeans and he unconsciously lifted his hips to help her. He sprang out, already so hard he was curving upwards towards his belly. Karen smiled at the sight and slowly, gently, wrapped one hand around him, caressing with her thumb. He made a noise, deep in his throat. 

“Can you do that for me, Frank? Will you think about this?” She blinked up at him, placing a delicate kiss on his tip. Frank's jaw dropped. 

“Y-yeah.” His voice was ragged. 

Karen grinned her approval before leaning down to give him one long lick. Frank groaned, and she felt it all the way down to her toes. Suddenly his big, rough hands were on her, gripping her shoulder, caressing her face.

She pulled away slightly and shook her head, smirk back on her face at the flushed surprise on his. 

“No touching, Frank. Just watch. Keep your eyes on me.”

Karen had no idea where she was coming up with this stuff, but his reactions were driving her. She felt hot, and powerful, and so fucking turned on. He was beside himself, she knew it. Ordered not to touch her, but not to look away; his eyes were wild. He lowered his hands to the chair’s plastic armrests with a white knuckled grip. 

He deserved an award for his obedience. Karen wrapped her lips around him.

“ _ God, _ Karen…” 

She kept it slow, wanting to draw this out, to feast on it. Up and down, up and down, one hand on his base, the other at his hip, stroking him with light touches. 

He was lost. Growling, writhing in his seat. Every so often he’d thrust up because he couldn’t help it. Whenever he did, Karen would back off and slow down, even pulling away completely between sparse kisses until he calmed down a bit, then she’d set back to her task. He groaned. He shuddered. He had no idea what to do with his hands. The few times he released his death-grip on the chair he’d been lost. Like now, they shot up and he scrubbed his face hissing a frustrated “ _ Fuuuuuck…” _ His fingers tried to grab hold of his own hair, but it was too short. 

Karen took him in deep and stayed there for a few moments, her nose almost touching his belly. Frank’s hands slammed back down onto the armrests, and a moan ripped from his throat. “Ah, _ Karen _ , Jesus…”

Karen was dripping, so turned on she might come from his reactions alone. He was hers. Totally hers. She’d never gotten him so out of his mind. He was twitching, moaning, whispering things under his breath that she had no idea if they were meant for her, or for himself, but they sounded dirty and desperate and she could barely stop from squirming. He thrust up again and whimpered,  _ whimpered, _ when she popped off of him. His jaw worked, his eyes begging her not to make him wait any longer, not to keep him on this edge. 

_ Ok, baby. _

She smiled at him with her eyes one last time, then went to work on him. Sped up just the way he liked. He choked on his grunt of pleasure and snapped the plastic armrest in his right hand clean off the chair. He barely noticed. He was panting her name louder and louder and-

“Ah... Karen, I’m- fuck!” 

He came with a roar louder than she’d ever heard him. In this shitty apartment, she was sure his voice probably carried through the whole building, but she didn’t care. She was proud. 

She’d never seen him so wrecked. It was a good look on him. Head tipped back, eyes closed, chest slightly glistening, still heaving as he tried half heartedly to regulate his breathing. Karen leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on his deliciously exposed neck as she got up off her knees, and that snapped Frank out of his stupor. He clumsily reached out for her elbows, trying to pull her onto his lap with a groggy, “Come ‘ere.” But Karen sidestepped him yet again, kissing him on the temple before bending to grab her phone from her bag. She checked the time-  _ dammit. _

“No time for that now, we’re barely going to make it to lunch with Matt and Foggy.” She said, surprised at how late it had gotten.

When she looked up from her phone she could have burst out laughing. Frank was still sitting there half dazed, pants around his knees, looking at her like she was insane. 

“Fuck lunch with Matt and Foggy.” 

Karen did burst out laughing. How did he manage to look so grumpy and so adorable at the same time? He did not like to be rushed, especially in moments like these. Post-sex Frank, was lazy, and cuddly, and could linger in the afterglow for way longer than Karen had thought any man was capable of. She SO wished they could stop time right now and he could spend as long as he wanted making her lose her mind… but today they truly didn’t have time.

“Unfortunately, lunch is crucial today. We have to go over all of our last minute prep for meeting with the DA this afternoon.” Karen said, as she flipped on her phone’s camera with her thumb, and checked her hair and makeup. Luckily, she was still in pretty good shape. She hadn’t allowed him to mess up her hair-  _ thank goodness _ . She tossed her phone back into her bag and started buttoning up her shirt. All of a sudden Frank was everywhere. Kissing her senseless, stealing her breath, lighting her up. When he broke away, he kissed her one last time on the cheek.

“Karen, you…”, he was lost for words. He started buttoning up her shirt, with an air of simply needing something to do with his hands. “That was…”

“That good, huh?” she teased. 

“Yeah. That good.” He bit the inside of his cheek, and his eyes made her a thousand promises she knew he’d keep. “And now you’re telling me I gotta wait to get my hands on you?”

Shit. He was killing her. She sighed and nodded back at him with a pouty face. 

“Tonight then.” 

She agreed, then reminded him to grab that hard drive for David. She turned on her heel towards the door, not watching him stretch to put his shirt back on. If they didn’t leave  _ right now _ … they weren’t going to. 

Their walk to lunch was long enough for Karen to get her head back on straight, but it was hard with Frank being the way he was. Handsy as they walked, holding too her close when they stopped at red lights, not saying anything, but staring at her in a way that made her squirm. She loved it, but hoped he got it all out of his system before they met up with Matt and Foggy. If Foggy saw the look on Frank’s face right now, he’d tease the hell out of her, and Matt… well, he couldn’t  _ see _ the look on Frank’s face, but he’d sense it somehow. 

Matt and Foggy were already seated, deep in conversation, with folders arranged in several stacks spread across the table. 

“Hi guys,” Karen greeted them, and she and Frank slid into their side of the booth. 

“Miss Page, long time, no see.” Foggy joked. The three of them had pulled an all nighter prepping for this afternoon with the DA, so they’d actually only parted ways about four hours ago. “Morning, Frank.”

“Hey fellas,” Frank smiled, shaking their hands before draping his arm across the back of the booth, around Karen.   
  


 

When their waitress came all four of them ordered breakfast even though it was just about noon. Frank relaxed in his seat and didn’t say much. He was used to this by now. When Nelson, Murdock & Page were working, it was like watching a well oiled machine. They complimented each other, accelerated each other- they were fun to watch. Over the last few months Frank spent almost all his time with Karen, which meant spending time with the lawyers. It became impossible for him not to overhear them talking shop. After a few difficult conversations with the three of them attempting to talk in code to preserve the privacy of their clients- Foggy had enough and just had Frank sign an NDA so they could speak freely around him. Frank appreciated it. He liked watching Karen work, seeing how her mind sparked ideas, seeing the passionate side of her that always poured out when she sang, but in a different light. She was so beautiful, all heart. 

Frank also just liked knowing what she was up to. He couldn’t help it. The weight of the last few years of his life, the things he’d seen, the things he’d done… they’d made him a little paranoid. He still saw the dirt and scum of the city everywhere he looked. He hadn’t gone out hunting for it in a long time- since that night on Karen’s doorstep. But he still saw the war out there. Still felt that pull to get out there and fight. He’d hear Karen talking about some of the cases she was working on, and his skin would crawl. He didn’t want her caught up in that. Didn’t want her around anything that dangerous. 

He watched her now. She wore a little frown as her eyes scanned some papers, looking for something. When she found thrust the paper in front of Foggy, rapidly explaining to Matt what she’d seen. Frank’s chest ached. She was an angel. He loved her so damn much. If anything happened to her…

Frank shook off the thought.  _ Don’t do that to yourself, man.  _ Refusing to go down that dark tunnel in his mind, he focused up, trying to actually pay attention to what the other three were talking about, not just admire the shape of Karen’s mouth as she spoke.

“This is an abuse of power, the DA has to see that. What the hell is her game?” Karen sighed, frustrated. 

“That’s just it, she doesn’t have to play games with us, she controls the board.” Foggy answered, an equally frustrated scowl on his own face. “She’s got Mr. Grote over a barrel.” 

_ Grote _ … Frank’s ears perked up. He knew that name…

“But he’s willing to testify. He’ll give names! He’ll tell her anything she wants to know. That should be enough. What she’s asking him to do is crossing the line!” Karen insisted, her cheeks starting to pink up. 

“We know, Karen. We know.” Matt interjected. His voice empathizing with her as he fought his own temper. “Foggy’s right though. This is all up to her. She doesn’t want to hear what he has to say. All the information he could give her, names, dates… she doesn’t want it. For whatever reason, she’s got her sights set on this sting. He’s gotta give her what she wants… or go to prison.” 

Karen squeezed her eyes shut, the papers in her hand flopping back on to the table. 

“If Grotto goes to prison, he’ll be killed. He won’t last a week.”

The three of them were silent, slumped and tired. 

Frank, however, sat up, on edge. 

“Grotto? Is  _ Elliot Grote _ your client?” His voice a grinding whisper. 

All three of them turned wide astonished eyes on him, even Matt. Karen’s eyebrows reached for the ceiling.

“...Yes. He is.” Foggy answered warily, reading Frank’s agitation quite accurately.

Frank’s blood was up; the worst combination of surprised and pissed. He couldn’t look at Karen, instead turning his glare on Foggy and Matt.

“Why the hell are you representing that shitbrick?”

Matt stiffened. Foggy frowned. “How do you know-”

“It doesn’t matter how I know.” Frank snapped. He pulled his arm from around Karen so he could lean in snarl across the table. “I DO know. That piece of shit, Grotto, is up to his eyeballs in the mob. What the hell are you doing defending a guy like that?”

“We’re doing our job, Frank.” Matt said, and there was iron in his voice. “He wants to cooperate with the police. He deserves a chance to make things right.”

Frank scoffed. “He doesn’t deserve shit.”

Karen laid her hand on his knee. Her touch made his gut twist. He didn’t want to fight with her, he wanted to keep directing his anger across the table at the lawyers. 

“He’s a human being.” She said. “He has a story, and we’re the only people who would listen. He needs our help.” 

_ God, Karen. _ She was too soft hearted and it was making him see red. She shouldn’t be helping this guy- she shouldn’t be  _ anywhere near _ a guy like that. Frank shook his head, not even knowing where to start.

“Frank, if we don’t help him, he’s going to die. If he goes to prison, we know that he’ll be killed on the inside.” Karen kept her voice soft, but urgent. She wanted him to pity the asshole. “The only way we can keep him out of prison is to make a deal with the DA, but the only deal she’s willing to make is so dangerous he might be killed anyway. You see? We have to help him.”

“No. You don’t.” Frank stressed, not wanting to upset her, but the words were erupting out of him before he could stop them. “He’s a murderer, Karen. You get that? Don’t be naive. You don’t get to be in his position in the mob without killing people. He deserves to die.”

“No.” Matt said. His voice a little louder now. A little angry. “Everyone deserves a second chance. If there’s even the slightest hope, the smallest bit of good in them, they deserve a chance.” 

Frank was all to glad for the excuse to look away from Karen’s upset face, and glower across the table at Matt.  _ Fucking altar boy. _

“Grotto’s not perfect,” Karen started up again, “but this sting the DA set up, it’s putting his life on the line. She’s using him as bait, and if we aren’t there to-”

“ _ WHAT? _ ” Frank almost shouted, half of the restaurant stopped what they were doing to glance over at their table, but Frank didn’t care, so appalled by what she’d just said. “You’re actually planning on going? To this _ sting _ ? This - whatever the fuck plan the DA cooked up- you’re trying to  _ be there _ ?”

He must be going crazy- he can’t have understood that right. But all three just stared at him. 

“You can’t be serious. You want to be onsite for an operation, where there are real killers with real guns, and shit could go sideways any second? Where the DA is the only person protecting you and you’ve already pissed her off? Are you fucking kidding me?” Frank smacked the table with his hand, rattling the mugs and dishes. 

“We have to.” Karen said, but he wasn’t listening to her. He was scowling across the table at the lawyers. 

“What the hell are you idiots thinking? Besides, _you’re_ the lawyers- if you have to go- fine. But why should Karen go? Why put her in that position? ” 

Karen snatched her hand off his knee and he knew he’d made a mistake. Karen’s eyes narrowed, he’d never seen that look on her face before.

“Hey- I put  _ myself _ in this position. Do not pick a fight with them on my behalf. I’m going because it’s important to me and it’s my choice. ” Her anger cut his in half. He didn’t know what to say. 

Foggy, who had been watching this train wreck of a conversation looking grieved, finally spoke up. 

“Hey, so - this timing clearly sucks- but we have to go.” 

Frank could have smacked him. 

Karen dug in the depths of her bag, her movements twitchy and irritated before dredging up some bills and tossing her cash on the table. Matt and Foggy did the same, but as they slid out of the booth and made their way towards the door, Frank didn’t move keeping Karen at the table with him.

“Lets go,” she said in a voice he barely recognized. 

“Karen-” 

“Frank, please. I don’t want to fight with you. I have to go.” Her voice was so fierce, it shoved him outside of his body. He suddenly felt like he was watching himself move, watching himself stare at Karen as she stood up, watching himself follow her out of the restaurant. Trailing after her like a dog who wasn’t quite sure its owner was going to let it back in the house. 

_ Say something. Do something. Anything, you jackass. _

But he had nothing. He just watched himself, watching her. 

When they got outside the lawyers were a few yards away, giving the couple some space. Karen wrapped her arms around herself like she was fending off the cold even though it was a warm day. She didn’t say a word, and he knew she wouldn’t. She’d wait. 

“Please…” He said, his voice soft in his own ears. “Please be safe, Karen.” 

Her expression softened a bit, the tiniest bit. She unwrapped her arms from around herself and slid them around Frank’s waist. Frank cradled her in his arms, afraid of holding too tight for some reason he couldn’t really name. 

When Karen pulled back, her eyes were glassy. She tilted her head, her gaze piercing him through. He was afraid of what she saw.

“See you tonight.”

He couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement, but he nodded back dumbly either way.

He watched himself watching her turn and join the lawyers. He watched himself watching her walk away. She was long gone by the time he re-entered his body and realized he’d been staring at the empty space where she used to be for far too long.Frank was at a loss, he couldn’t muster his thoughts. He couldn’t feel his skin starting to buzz and his thoughts starting to race. _Shit._ He jammed his hands into his pockets and found something to focus on, to ground him.

The hard drive. The one he was supposed to drop off to David. It was in his pocket. Now he had a mission, a direction, a distraction. _OK. Go._

 

Frank got to Anvil and was climbing up the stairs to David’s office in under 20 minutes. 

David’s work station was a set up he’d built himself, with nine monitors of various sizes stacked up and angled toward him. He didn’t look up when Frank swept in and set the hard drive clattering on his desk. 

“Thanks, Frank. Come take a look at this, I found a custom kevlar manufacturer. Was thinking of…” David trailed off as he finally looked up at Frank.  “Hey man, what’s wrong?”

Frank didn’t know how David could tell that something was off, but he was grateful he did. _Where the hell to start?_ Everything today had been so unexpectedly emotional, he wasn’t used to feeling all of this shit. Should he start with last night, the first night he’d spent at his own place, without Karen, in weeks? How he barely slept because he missed her so bad and he was sure he’d have nightmares, so he just laid awake, staring at the shitty ceiling of his shitty apartment realizing over and over how fucked up it was that he was living like this? How broken he was? Or how Karen had come over and seen it all? How he’d been so dreadfully sure that something, eventually  _ something _ , was going to be too much for her to deal with, but instead of bailing like she should have, she loved him. She was sweet, and sat him down, and… No, he couldn’t tell David that. He’d have to start at lunch, that was easiest.

“I think… I maybe screwed things up with Karen.” He said, looking out the window instead of at David, wringing his hands unconsciously. 

David wheeled fully around in his seat and kicked his extra rolly chair over to Frank. It hit him lightly in the shins. “OK. What happened.” 

Frank was still so out of practice at this. Opening up. Letting people in. He sat quietly a long time, staring at his hands, before he started talking. He told David how lunch had started off ok. He was with Karen and her friends, and he liked those guys enough. But then they were talking about this case they’re working on- and they’re defending this complete piece of shit. This guy, Grotto, a name Frank had come to know from his nights on the streets, he was a mob bastard, from right there in Hell’s Kitchen. He still couldn’t fucking believe it. 

“I mean, they’re dedicated to him. Staying up all night, worrying about if he’ll be ok. They’re making enemies with the DA over this fucking guy.” Frank shook his head. “I had to call them on that bullshit.” 

Frank looked to David for support, but David’s face was impassive as he listened.

“How does Karen feel about it?”

“Karen-” Even saying her name made his stomach ache a little bit. “She’s all heart, you know? Too soft. They’re all being so fucking naive. She’s more worried about Grotto than about herself.”

Frank’s temper was rising with every word he spoke.

“She’s putting herself in danger for his asshole! The is DA setting up some sort of sting, using that shitbrick as bait- and Karen’s planning on  _ being there _ . Right in the damn middle of it! To make sure that Grotto’s safe! She could get hurt! She could-  _ she could… _ ”

Frank slammed his hand down on David’s desk, furious and worried and kind of wanting to cry.

“Hey man- don’t do that. Don’t go straight there in your head just because you’re worried about her.” David said, rolling closer.

“Well then, what the hell am I supposed to do?” 

“We fix one problem at a time. First things first, the operation with the DA definitely sounds dangerous. If Karen insists on being there…” David eyed Frank.

He nodded back exasperated to say ‘ _ she does’ _ .

“Fine. If she insists on being there, then Grotto’s legal team has the right to hire out private security. We can be there, Frank. We’ll keep her safe.” 

Frank felt the fist that had been gripping his heart for the last hour slowly unclench. Holy shit. He hadn’t even thought of that. Of course that’s what they should do. David was a genius.

“When is this happening?” David was tapping away at his keyboard again.

“Soon.” Frank said, “I don’t know exactly when, but they’re signing the deal right now, so… soon.” 

“Alright.” David said, entering one last keystroke. “We got this.”

His relief must have been evident on his face because David smiled. Frank had been hunched over, elbows on his knees, but now he leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face. 

“Thank you, David.”

“OK. One problem solved, on to the next,” David said, smirking at Frank like it was good to see any emotions out of him at all, even if it was distress. “What did you say that pissed Karen off?”

Frank squinted at his friend, not quite in the mood to be teased just yet. But, David was right. 

“I kinda, called her naive.” He said, ticking his head from one side to the other as he spoke.” And I called her friends idiots. And I guess… I implied that they shouldn’t allow her to go.” 

David’s eyebrows had made a dramatic journey upwards the entire time Frank spoke. 

“So, it looks like you won Overbearing Asshole Bingo, huh?” 

“I’ll say.” Frank shook his head. 

The immediate fear for Karen’s safety was set aside for now, but a more icy sickening feeling was seeping through Frank’s skin the more he thought about the things he’d said. The angry look on her face, the way she snatched her hand away from him. Frank knew he was a lot to take on. Karen had the patience and forgiveness of a saint when it came to dealing with all of his bullshit. He couldn’t help but always be on the lookout for the final thing that was going to push her away, that would make her realize she could do way way better than him. Was this it? His stomach turned. He grasped on the memory of how she’d hugged him right before she walked away… but she hadn’t turned back to smile or wink at him like she normally would. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. No texts. His heart sank. Maybe this was it. Maybe he’d blown it.

“Hey, don’t freak out. You can fix this. She loves you. When are you going to see her?”

“Supposed to see her tonight. At her place.”

_ Our place. Holy shit. _

Frank let out a short humorless laugh, “She asked me to move in with her today.”

David was so surprised he stood straight up from his chair, then not knowing what else to do, he sat right back down again. “Whoa! That’s a big deal, man! Congratulations! Sarah’s gonna die.”

Frank barely heard him, trapped in a vortex of his own self doubt. 

“Maybe- maybe she won’t want me to move in anymore. Maybe I should give her some space tonight...”

“NO. Frank- no.” David got right up into Frank’s face. “When it comes to you and Karen- you guys don’t need space. You need each other. You better be there tonight, Frank. She’s expecting you. I  _ promise _ , she’s expecting you to be there when she gets home.”  

Frank stared at his friend, hoping to God that what he said was true.  _ Please let it be true. _

“Do whatever it takes, man. You be there when she gets home. You fix this. It’ll work out.” David said, grabbing Frank by the shoulder and giving it a squeeze before yanking him up out of the chair. “Now go. Go.”

Frank nodded sharply, a soldier on a mission, and took off. 

He was back at his shithole apartment in record time, collecting the exactly two duffle bags full of belongings that he gave a shit about. While he was packing, he did as she’d asked. He didn’t spend his time remembering all the miserable days and nights he’d spent there. He thought about her. And how she’d come into this place the same way she’d come into his life, fearless and kind, seeing through the wreckage, and loving him back to life. She was a miracle, a dream.

He left his keys on the small folding table as he walked out the door. He wouldn’t be coming back here.

Frank had the feeling of being outside himself again as he made his way back to Karen’s place. Like he was watching himself walk up her steps. Watching his hands shake slightly has he slid  _ his _ key into the door. The apartment was dark as he entered and he took a moment to soak it in. This was a quiet, peaceful place. Every single memory he had here was good, and happy, and full of love. The thought of her coming home angry, telling him to get out, kept trying to surface in his mind like an angry sea monster. But he kept shoving it down.  _ Focus up! Make this right.  _

He wasn’t sure where he should put his two bags of stuff, so he left them in her small hallway and walked into her living room, turning on a lamp with his foot like she normally would. She’d be home soon. He wanted to do… something. If he’d had time, he would have loved to have brought some food and cooked for her. Lit candles. Waited on his knees with roses. But, it didn’t look like a grand gesture was possible at this point. He supposed waiting on her couch with an apology locked and loaded was probably the best he could do, when his eyes landed on her guitar.  _ No.  _ The idea was laughable. He wasn’t half the musician she was, hadn’t played or sang in years. But then again... music was the thing that connected them. Music was how she blessed him again and again and again. Music was the language they were most fluent in. Music made him understand. 

This was it. He rolled his eyes at himself as he reached for the guitar, it didn’t matter if he sucked. From the moment they met, Karen had given him everything she had. The least he could do was give her all he had left. 

He started strumming as soon as he heard her key in the lock. He was rusty as hell, but this song was easy enough. His hands fumbled on the chord changes a bit, but he soon found his rhythm. Karen hesitated in the hallway, probably surprised at what she was hearing. When she finally peeked around the corner her eyes were wide and shining. He started singing and her hand fluttered to her heart. 

 

_ Honey, you are a rock _

_ Upon which I stand _

_ And I come here to talk _

_ I hope you understand _

 

_ That green eyes, yeah the spotlight shines on you _

_ And how could anybody deny you? _

 

_ I came here with a load _

_ And it feels so much lighter now I met you _

_ And honey you should know  _

_ that I could never go on without you _

 

He sang, scratchy, rumbly voice and all. And it made him smile that, though this song was called ‘Green Eyes’, and Karen’s were the most piercing blue… this song was for her. No man had ever sang these words and meant them as much has he did right now, singing them to her. He stared into her soul, needing her to understand it all. The softness in her eyes, and the tears trickling down her pink cheeks told him she did. Like always, reading him like a damn book. She came closer and took the opposite end of the couch. They both chuckled a bit as his voice cracked on a few high notes. She even joined him with a some harmonies before the end, their voices blending, the loveliness of hers somehow making his sound better. 

When the song ended, he set the guitar aside, but didn’t let her get a word in before he launched into his apology. 

“I’m so sorry for how I acted today, Karen. I was being an asshole.”

Karen kicked off her heels and crawled over to him, onto his lap. Frank almost moaned with relief, having her in his arms again. Almost whined like a dog. 

“You were an asshole today.” She affirmed, winding her arms around his neck. Kissing the top of his head. “You owe Matt and Foggy an apology.” 

“I know.” Frank nodded, pressing his face into her neck. 

“Things aren’t as black and white for me as they are for you, Frank. I live in shades of grey. I’m going to work in places and with people that you don’t like sometimes, and I’ll need you to trust me.”

She was running her nails across the back of his skull and it was making electric sparks all over his body, but he fought hard to concentrate on what she was saying. It was important. 

“Can you do that? Can you trust me to make good decisions?”

“Yes. I can. I do.”

“And can you try not to be so damn impossible when we disagree on something?”

Frank laughed into her neck, but then leaned back so she could see his eyes, needing her to see his sincerity. “I will try. I’ll do better. I really am sorry for today.” 

She kissed his temple and sighed. She forgave him. He could finally breathe.

Frank shifted her on his lap, needing a little more space between them so he could think straight. 

“I won’t try to stop you from doing won’t try to stop you from doing things- but when there’s something seriously dangerous, we need to be able to talk about it.” Frank took her hand, stroking it with his thumb, very nervous all of a sudden. “And if something dangerous becomes unavoidable… you can forgo police protection and hire private security.”

Karen burst out laughing, and as usual, her laughter summoned his own. 

“Deal.” She said, kissed him the way he’d been longing to kiss her all day. Hungrily, urgently, like she needed proof that they were ok. Like if their lips and bodies were pressed close enough, nothing in this world could hurt them. 

Frank kissed her back with that same urgency and doubled it, finally allowing himself to sink his fingers into her hair and wreck it even though it was so pretty all pinned up. He needed to grab fistfuls of it, to hold her closer. Karen moaned and the sound drugged him. His hands moved on their own, taking care with the buttons on her pretty shirt, gliding her skirt to the floor.The whole time her hands moved over him, grabbing at his chest, scratching at his back, lighting his skin on fire. 

By the time he got her naked he could barely form coherent thoughts, there were only two anthems running rampant in his brain: Karen and Now. The couch wouldn’t do. He needed her in her bed. He needed to spread her out. Worship her. Drown in her. Pin her down and make her scream. Frank was up off the couch, ridding himself of his clothes, and hauling her up into his arms before Karen had a chance to do anything other than bite her lip in anticipation. 

He carried her across the apartment to her bedroom with her long legs wrapped around his hips. He could feel how hot she was, how wet. When she ground down on him it felt too damn good. He groaned and pressed her up against her bedroom wall, grinding against her, earning those sweet gasps and moans that he craved to much. She felt so fucking good, they weren’t going to make it to the bed quite yet. Karen adjusted as he set her against the wall and got on his knees. He kissed and licked her belly and thighs, finally bringing one thigh over his shoulder and diving in.

_ Hell yes.  _

He savored the taste of her. His girl was fucking delicious. She was already wound so tight, he knew this wasn’t going to take long. Her voice was already so high pitched, squeaking out his name, and yes, and please. He took a moment to glance up at her and  _ goddamn, what a sight. _ One of her hands held a fist of her own hair, the other was anchored on his shoulder, her beautiful breasts rising up and down with her panting breaths, her eyes clenched shut, her mouth soft and open.  _ Yes, Karen. Feel it, take it. _ Frank’s blood was lava in his veins and he growled, driving against her harder, faster with his tongue, sucking on her clit. She was almost there, he could feel it in her thighs, hear it in her breath.  _ Come on, Sweetheart. Come on. _ And then she broke. Her entire body shivering and shaking, he looked up to see her mouth open in a silent scream. She didn’t make a sound, not even breathing. Pride erupted in his chest like a flash fire. Frank always loved the sounds he could draw out of Karen, her moans, her whines and sighs, but he knew- when she was completely silent- that’s when he nailed it, when she was out of her fucking mind. He tried to contain his shit-eating grin as he worked her through it, drew it out, brought her down. When she finally drew in a long breath, sounding like she’d come up from underwater, and sighed his name  _ “Fraaaank… _ ” he felt like a goddamn hero. 

He worked his way back up her body and she dragged him to her mouth, kissing him in a way he loved. Kissing him the way she did early in the morning, when she just woke up, and it was like nothing else existed to her; not New York, not her job, not a single thought- there was only him and their bodies together.

Both a little shaky now, they stumbled over to the bed. Karen bit his lower lip lightly before pulling away and crawling onto the bed on her hands and knees, she stayed there, looking back at him over her shoulder with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Frank’s entire body throbbed. Hell, she really had him pegged. Normally that offer would have had him go full-on-caveman in a second. He be on her, covering her body with his, taking her, pounding her in to the mattress. But right now, what he wanted more than anything, was just to look at her. 

She watched with eyebrows raised as he walked passed her. He laid himself down with this head on the pillows and just stared at her for a while. She was so beautiful, blonde hair all wild, lips swollen from his kisses, eyes wide and sweet and hungry. His hand floated down to his cock almost on its own accord and he stroked himself a few times, slowly, he was so damn hard. 

Karen bit her lip at the sight and he thought he might have heard a soft whine. He didn’t know if she was even aware of it, but she had a thing for watching him touch himself. She melted into a puddle every time. One of these days he was going to have to have some fun with that, maybe see how crazy he could get her just from watching him, maybe get her to touch herself. That thought was hot as hell, but not what he wanted right now. He beckoned her with his other hand.

“Ride me, Karen. Please.”

Her smile hit him full force, shattering him like it always did, filling in the cracks with pure sunlight. She crawled over to him, tossing her hair to one side as she straddled him. She took him in her hand slid him along wetness a few times before sinking down on him.  _ Fuck, she felt so good. _ It took her a few slow rolls of her hips to take him all the way in, and once she had him fully seated inside her, he was fucking lost. 

His hands gripped her hips as she rode him and his eyes feasted on her. He couldn’t look away; her bouncing breasts, her beautiful blue eyes that looked almost black now with her pupils blown out in pleasure. He looked between their legs, watching himself move in and out of her. He couldn’t look away, it was so fucking perfect.  _ So fucking perfect.  _ She started to speed up and he joined her, thrusting up to meet her. He could hear himself gasping and growling and he vaguely realized he was chanting her name. 

He could feel the wave rising in side him, ready to crash down and sweep him out to sea. Karen’s hands were anchored on his chest, her nails digging in. Frank was still staring down at the place where they were joined when he heard her soft voice.

“Frank, I love you s-so much.” Something in her voice was off. It was trembling, and not from the exertion of what they were doing. 

Frank looked up and his heart bottomed out in his chest. She was crying. She was upset.  _ What the hell had he done? _

He sat up instantly, stilling their movements and running his hands over her, not knowing where to even begin to try and fix this.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Karen hid her face in her hands, embarrassed. Frank was at a loss, rubbing her back dumbly, listening to her sniffles.

“Please, Baby- please tell me what’s wrong.” He couldn’t handle it.

“I’m sorry. I just- I was so scared all day.” She hiccuped and allowed him to peel her hands away from her face. When she finally met his searching gaze, her watery eyes stared straight into his soul. “I was so scared that I’d come home...and you wouldn’t be here.”

She barely got the last words out before she started crying again. He clutched her to him and let her bury her face into his neck.

He felt winded, like he’d been punched in the gut. The sounds of her crying scraping at his heart. He was the world’s biggest asshole. Of course she felt that way, half the time she’d known him he’d been a fucking lunatic. He had to make this right. Had to make this better.

“I’m so sorry, Karen. I’m so sorry. Look at me, please.” 

She peeked up at him, eyes puffy, cheeks red, and he wanted to kick his own ass for making her feel this way. He rubbed at her tears with his thumb.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m with you. I’m gonna be wherever you are, you got that?” She just stared at him and he hoped to god she believed him. “I know I’ve been such a wreck. Most of the time we’ve known each other you’ve been taking care of me but, I’m… I’m gonna take care of you too, ok?”

The sun broke through, she gave him a tremulous smile.

“You do take care of me, in ways you don’t even know.” 

That made Frank choke up. Here he was, thinking everything he touched turned to ash, and she’s making him feel like he helps, like he makes things better, like she needs him. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She held his hand against her cheek. “I didn’t know how lonely I was, how unconnected, until you. And I feel so different now. Like springtime after winter.”

_ He made her feel like that? Him?  _ He was the luckiest man alive. 

“I love you.” He said, and he kissed her. She kissed him back with a sweetness that made him shudder. Their kisses stayed light, but he was suddenly aware that he was still inside her. He moved to lift her off of him, his blood having cooled off quite a bit, thinking she might want a little more time before they-

She ground down onto him. 

“Take care of me.” She whispered in his ear, before biting the lobe in a way that never failed to set him off.

He groaned and captured her lips with his, locking an arm around her waist so he could slowly flip them over, laying her on her back and settling between her thighs. He was already thrusting slowly. He hovered above her, kissing her when she raised her face to his, watching her as she explored his body with her hands and mouth. She looked at him like he was beautiful, not a patchwork of brokenness. Her tongue traced over scar tissue and electricity buzzed on his skin. She kissed his old injuries, lightly, like she was trying to make them all better, his heart ached with love. It was too much. Too damn much.

He buried his face in her neck and bore down into her. She bent with him and welcomed him and surrendered completely. It was delirium. He never wanted it to end though he could feel his climax barreling toward him like a freight train. He changed the angle of his thrust for her, wanting them to come together. Needing it. She gasped yes and his name, and he was pretty sure he was begging her to come.  _ Fuck, Sweetheart, Yes. Give it to me. Give it to me. Please.  _ And the moment he felt her clench around him, he lost it. He went to outer space, maybe all the way to heaven, and then slammed back into his body, exhausted, but tingling with life.

When he had the strength, he rolled to his side taking her with him. Had no idea how much time they spent just touching, and kissing, him occasionally tickling her to make her laugh. 

They started talking about the apartment, things they might want to change now that they were both going to be living here. She could consolidate some of her music gear in the other room so he could have space for his tools and a gun safe and the few things he’d brought over. They might want to redo the kitchen, create more work space because Frank liked to cook. Maybe a new couch? 

This conversation was just as satisfying, and nourishing, and mind blowing as making love to her had been. Because it meant that he really was alive. He was doing life with someone. He was somebody’s somebody. He was just some guy in bed with a pretty girl, making plans to give her absolutely everything.

They were still holding each other close, whispering, when she said, “Thanks for the song.”

He grinned at her, hoping it didn’t turn into a full on blush.

“Voice of an angel, huh?” He joked, teasing himself. 

But she looked at him, her eyes a blue ocean of truth.

“Yeah.” She said. “It is to me.”  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you enough for reading this piece and I really hope you enjoyed it. As I've written before, this started off as an exercise in writing dialog, and ended up being really meaningful to me. I wanted to write these two awesome characters talking to each other - and also explore the role music can plan in healing and growth. I think all of us have experienced how sometimes, in our darkest moments, the only thing that can get through to us is a song that resonates.  
> This story is what made me start and account here and actually have the guts to hit "Post" after I'd written something:) Thanks again for reading and all of the encouraging comments- they mean a lot to me!


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